From the Sixteen Year Old Me
by hokkyokukou
Summary: Five years ago, Kuroko might have been able to save them a second time, but five years ago, Kuroko was still alive. Their lives at age twenty were spiraling out of control. They thought they had moved on. But they never had. The story of six adults saved by a growing, blue-eyed boy whose name was Shiroko Tetsuya. Semi-reincarnation fic.
1. first hell

_Reworked version of From the Fifteen Year Old Me. _

**first hell**

**-1-**

**5:30 p.m.: too young for this**

The scab on Aomine Daiki's chin was itching like crazy, but there was nothing he could do about it if he wanted to avoid a scar.

"Believe me; there is nothing more I'd like to do than pick you off and fling you away," he grumbled under his breath. He noticed an elderly woman staring at him and scratched the back of his head in exasperation. What fleeting embarrassment he felt was gone as quickly as a frightened deer; he had more important things to worry about than his apparent sanity. With an absent-minded scratch to his chin, Aomine Daiki turned in his spot (there goes the old lady with her staring again), searching the store.

His eyes lit up at the sight of his best friend waiting for him with open arms; he reached out and grabbed—

A can of soup.

With a jolly smile that could have sent any child whimpering back to the parent, Aomine Daiki loaded his shopping basket. Never mind that he might be living off clam chowder for the next few days. It was on sale, and boy oh _boy_ was he getting a good deal.

Happiness could not last forever; his scab was beginning to kick up a fuss again. With a grumble, he headed to the checkout line, grabbing a box of band-aids and a can of salted peanuts on the way. A cooking magazine caught his eye; he reached for it, thinking looking at rich people making real food would somehow make him feel better…

"Ah, I'm so damn hungry… I'm too young for this…"

He pushed his cart to the cashier, barely registering the voice that greeted him with a robotic, "Good evening; did you find everything you need?"

**-2-**

**5:38 p.m.: one-hit KO**

Kagami Taiga didn't know what his past self was thinking when he applied for his job, but there was nothing more he'd like to do than go back a month in time and slap himself upside the head.

As if having to deal with people stupider than he was on a daily basis weren't enough, just about every five minutes, he had to repeat (and pleasantly, with a smile!) "Hi, did you find everything you need?" and "Have a wonderful day."

_Have a wonderful fucking day._

His only joys were when he elicited the most uncomfortable of grunts from men buying lube by gracing them with a very small and _very_ meaningful _heh_. Even that wasn't enough to mitigate the dullness of the job. Kagami Taiga was not built to stand around all day in one spot. He was meant to _move._ To do _something_. Not plaster on a smile that would make children cry and ground out a—

"Good evening; did you find everything you need?"

He grabbed the basket with venom and began scanning the items.

Peanuts. Bananas. Gum. Band-aids. Toilet paper. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup.

"The hell?" Kagami couldn't help but mutter as he scanned in soup can after soup can. He took a glance at the customer and choked on his spit.

"Aomine!?"

"Wh—the hell? Kagami? What are you doing here?"

_That's my line!_ Kagami would have crabbed in any other circumstance, but the sight of Aomine's face stopped the words in his throat. Deep bags under his eyes accentuated the hollowness of his cheeks, which, in turn, highlighted the thin, long scab decorating his chin. All thoughts of scanning soup lost, Kagami knitted his brows and tapped his own chin.

"Where'd that come from?"

_Wow what Kagami Taiga is concerned for my well-being?!_ was all but painted across Aomine's face. Kagami gave him a withering look, and Aomine had the good grace to supply a sheepish grin.

"From work," he said, tapping his thumb against the police badge on his chest. And not without a bit of pride, Kagami noted. "Some crazy drunk I was trying to get into the car pulled a knife on me. I was stupid and didn't realize he had it on him."

"Ah," Kagami acknowledged faintly. His position behind the cash register had never felt so prominent. He wanted to sink into the floor and beat himself up. But as he picked up the next soup can in line, he did a double take.

"Wait what?"

"What?"

"You're going on patrol?"

"Yeah," Aomine said with a shrug.

"You're twenty. People don't go on patrols when they're twenty."

"Yeah, well," Aomine said as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "They said I had the guts and the 'talent'—whatever talent a police officer can have, at any rate. And then they told me that as long as I go to school for at least two years, I can follow people around a few hours a day."

"Talent…" Kagami muttered and for a few minutes fantasized that he was the best soup-can scanner in the world and was raking in the cash as people traveled all the way to Japan just to see his soup-scanning prowess. The barcode seemed to snicker at him. He scowled and chucked the can in a bag.

"Why are you buying all this soup? You got a canned-soup fetish or something?"

"Nah, I have the lady on the canned soup fetish," Aomine said, grinning. "She's gotta be at least a G."

Kagami almost rolled his eyes, but refrained upon realizing that he was being far more conversational than his job called for—his manager was staring at him like a rabid dog. He swallowed and dutifully scanned the soup cans.

"What are you doing here?" Aomine said, oblivious to Kagami's plight. "Last time I checked, you lived in an apartment by yourself."

"Yeah, well," Kagami mumbled. "Some stuff happened. And besides," he said with a half-resentful glare, "the last time you checked was—"

"Yeah, yeah," Aomine said hastily, as if he didn't want to be reminded about how he'd neglected all his friends over the past few years.

"But this soup… what is it for, really?"

"I dunno," Aomine said. "Eating?"

Kagami's eyebrow twitched.

"Well, duh, but where are the vegetables?"

"Inside?"

"Like, real vegetables!"

Aomine waved a hand. "Don't need 'em. Waste of refrigerator space. Not that I even have one."

"You're gonna die of malnutrition."

"Come to my funeral?"

"Nope," Kagami said briskly. "The last one was enough for a lifeti—"

He abruptly stopped, both words and action. The soup can was suspended in air, clasped tightly in his frozen hand. He only realized now what he had been about to say. Aomine's eyes had grown wide.

Kagami quickly swiped the soup can and was relieved to find that it had been the last.

"Eat better," he said gruffly as he dumped Aomine's bags onto the counter. "You look like shit that's been shit on."

"Y-Yeah," Aomine said, looking perturbed. "Later."

As if his expression wasn't enough to show how affected he'd been by Kagami's slip-of-the-mouth, Aomine let Kagami's unintentional insult slide.

After Aomine left, Kagami relaxed his stiff shoulders, wondering when he had grown so tense. A moment of intense internal struggle passed, and then, to the shock of the old lady who had been coming his way, Kagami violently punched himself in the face. As the disturbed woman scurried away, Kagami shook his head and slapped himself again.

"If you're _quite_ done with the masochist act…" an ominous voice slithered into his ear. Kagami gulped and mechanically took the next customer's cart. His supervisor scoffed and stalked away.

"Good evening, did you find everything alright?" he muttered, barely registering that the next customers were a boy and his father.

"Daddy, why was he hitting himself?"

Despite the attempt at a whisper, Kagami heard every word of that question. His eyebrow twitched, but he maintained a calm demeanor.

"Ah, son, he was trying to give himself a dose of youth."

A dose of _what?_

"See, before you get out of school, you get naptime, right? And in this way, you regenerate your youth bar."

_Youth bar?_ The fuck was that?

"But this man here, he doesn't get a naptime, so he must resort to other methods in order to keep his youth bar up."

Kagami stole a glance at the man whose sanity he questioned.

"Look dad, he's got scissors for eyebrows! That's so cool! He could be a superhero and his name would be Scissor-Brow-Man!"

The father of this rambunctious child threw Kagami not an apologetic glance, but rather one that said _you had better be honored that my son deemed you cool and hip enough to be a superhero_. Kagami fixed his eyes sternly upon the boy, whose youth was radiant. Black hair, like his father's, rosy, chubby cheeks, and bright blue eyes that—

Kagami's breath hitched in his throat, and the world all but stopped.

_—that belonged on another face—_

_—unseeing eyes that wouldn't open again—_

The celery in Kagami's hand fell, and he took a few shaky steps back, trying to control his breathing. The father moved forward, head tilted in inquisitively, saying, "You look like you've seen a ghost. Is everything alright?"

Under those bright blue eyes, Kagami gulped like a landed fish. He scooped up the celery and thrust it in the bags.

"Sorry," he mumbled lowly. The man hummed a little as if to say _Not at all_.

"Long day?" the man prompted as he cheerily lifted his son in the air. The boy made plane noises as he was whirled around.

"Something like that…"

Kagami's gaze gravitated towards the boy currently raining spit all over the cash register. The man abruptly clutched his son tightly to his chest and gave Kagami a suspicious look.

"My son is cute," he said imperiously. "But no stalking."

Kagami guffawed.

"St—me—what—"

The child wriggled in his father's arms and leaned forward.

"Daddy's only joking," he said in a confidential whisper, which was not very confidential at all given that his whisper was louder than a mooing cow. His whisper erupted into giggles as 'Daddy' attacked him with a tickle.

Something akin to a hot iron seared Kagami's insides as he watched those laughing blue eyes hungrily.

"What's… his name?" Kagami said in his best pitch at a conversational tone.

Laughing a little, the man shrugged. "This little guy?"

Kagami nodded.

"His name is…"

After they had left, Kagami quietly closed his lane and signed out for the day. The wind had never tasted so sweet on his bike-ride home. It was sweet enough to make him vomit. The scent of pollen and freshly-bloomed flowers overwhelmed him, sending him toppling off his bike and into the grass. He lay eagle-spread, and for the first time in almost four years, he wanted to cry.

He passed a hand over his eyes.

"What kind of hell…"

_Would give a kid with those blue eyes the name 'Shiroko Tetsuya'?_

**-3-**

**11:43 p.m.: the backwards poster boy**

While Kagami was wasting his life away under a witheringly miserable sun, Aomine was working hard to finish his university homework before his next patrol began.

Yes, Aomine Daiki was working hard.

If only Momoi could see him now, she'd have a heart attack…

The pen halted in its scrawl. Aomine cocked his head and gave out an exasperated sigh-snarl. Why'd she come up all of a sudden? He hadn't seen her in over a year…

In any case, why was using your brain so damn _hard?_ After doing nothing but living, breathing, and thinking basketball, it had been a rough transition to thinking about triangles and politics and public policy. Jesus, even hearing the word 'politics' gave Aomine a headache. Pitiful, he knew, but it was way better than whiling his life away by uprooting dandelions and watching their seeds dance in the wind. He grimaced at the memories of that part of his life—_all for you, Tetsu—_and scribbled out a half-assed answer to his public policy homework.

Enough was enough. Aomine pulled on a jacket over his uniform because, although it was already late spring, the weather got chilly at night. He locked his door and hopped outside, where he found a police car awaiting him.

Driving the patrol car was Officer Yu, a man in his early thirties who had a big smile and small hands. His hand size was the butt of the jokes in the workplace, but he took it in stride, often poking fun of them himself. He seemed to be too kind to be a police officer, but when it came to protecting civilians, he was more serious than anyone Aomine had ever met.

Aomine gruffly admitted that Officer Yu was a bit of an inspiration.

"Where are we going tonight?" Aomine asked, unable to squash the eager tone that won over his usual drawl.

Officer Yu replied, "Kaiyou University. I'm going to show you the party life here."

"Are we gonna arrest some people?"

"Not this time," Officer Yu said with a chuckle. He turned his cap to a slight angle, a habit of his, Aomine noticed, that arose whenever he was feeling on edge. "University kids get it easy. There are too many underage drinkers to contain, so we let them go so long as they don't do anything really stupid."

"So, what do we do?"

"Roam around the streets to make sure they're not doing anything really stupid. Prevent accidents. Take the really drunk ones somewhere safe. Small things like that. It's about time the club starts kicking kids out. That's the club over there."

As they pulled up to the curb, stream of students was beginning to straggle out of the building full of neon lights. The music was so loud Aomine could hear it from the curb. The stench of alcohol was poignant. People were stumbling over themselves, delirious, inebriated, high. Aomine could see some of them point at the patrol car, could hear them laugh. He bristled, but Officer Yu patted him on the shoulder.

"Of course they'll laugh at authority at times like these," he said breezily, but his hand was at his cap again. "Because they're out there defying law and there's nothing we can do about it. Oh, dear," he said suddenly. "Looks like one of them got a bit too drunk."

A blond—was he a foreigner?—doubled over and emptied out his entire stomach on the sidewalk. People were laughing again, but no one bothered to go over and check on the blond. His shirt was half unbuttoned, and bruises were visible even from Aomine's distance.

"Let's go," Officer Yu said, nudging Aomine.

"R-Right."

As he swung himself out of his seat, Aomine got an eerie feeling deep in the pits of his stomach, like some sense of foreboding was trying to crawl out of him—

"Oh, god, no," he muttered.

All of a sudden, the foreboding feeling exploded, peppering his insides with ice. That golden hair was too familiar for comfort, and the silver hoop dangling off one ear wasn't doing anything to make Aomine feel better.

Officer Yu took the blond under the armpits and heaved him to his feet.

"C'mon, kid, you got better places to sleep than in your own vomit," he huffed, trying to keep the blond steady. Aomine wanted to tell him _give up_ and _let's go home_. The blond lurched suddenly, and Officer Yu took a nimble step back, neatly avoiding the next projectile of vomit launched into the air. Aomine's feet were not so lucky and were splattered at the edges. But he didn't even care.

His world was caving in, and for all he knew, he was looking through a fish-hole centered on the woozy blond. Bruises everywhere. Red marks lining him from the neck down.

_It's not supposed to be happening this way_.

Tangled hair. Vomit. The stench of alcohol. A whiff of smoke.

_I should be the most messed up out of our entire group. Not him._

_Not him!_

Everything was backwards now. Out of all of them, Aomine should have been the one without a job, without an education, getting drunk and drugged up and laid every night, because he was as lazy as hell and stupid to boot—but this kid—not this kid—

Before he knew it, he was seeing red, and as those hazy, fogged-up golden eyes met his, he felt his fist swing wildly and make contact with clammy skin.

"The hell do you think you're doing?!" he heard himself shouting. Those groggy yellow eyes tried to focus on him, tried to pin his identity down, but Aomine could tell that they were out of commission. It was only because Officer Yu was yelling at him to calm down that he kept himself from knocking the living shit out of that kid.

"The hell are you doing?" he demanded. "The _hell_ are you doing?"

He couldn't even bring himself to spit out the blond's name, because _this _wasn't the boy he used to know; this mess wasn't anything _close_ to the boy he knew. His knees must have given way from the shock, because he was kneeling, hands scrabbling for a hold on the other boy's shoulders. He shook him hard.

"_Why_?" he demanded. His voice was like sandpaper. "I don't understand. _Why?!"_

"Calm down, Aomine!" Officer Yu said sharply. "He can't hear you—he just lost it." His tone lost its harsh edge as he inquired, "Do you… know him?"

Aomine's words were lost in the knot in his throat. Anger and sadness twisted his innards into knots, competing for a place in his emotions. He tried to shut it down, but the sight of that boy slumped in Officer Yu's arms sent him into a seething mess.

"I don't know what sort of relationship you have with this kid, but remember what I always tell you," Officer Yu said, adopting a slow, steady tone. "The number one thing is to remain calm. Get a hold of yourself, Aomine."

Aomine closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. All he could see was the blinding smile belonging to a boy with gold hair. And when he opened his eyes again, all he could see was the wilted remains of that breathless image.

He stood and brushed the dirt off his knees.

"His name is Kise Ryouta," he said in a voice so flat that it reminded him of Kuroko. His stomach lurched again. He tasted blood in his mouth. He'd bitten his own lip. He wiped the blood off with his thumb and turned sharply on his heel. The wrangled smile that rose to his face split the wound further, and the blood that welled up, he spat out bitterly.

"I don't know him."

**-4-**

**2:03 a.m.: master of laziness**

Murasakibara Atsushi had always thought everything to be troublesome, still thought everything was troublesome, and was pretty positive that he was going to continue to believe that everything was too troublesome. As such, he devised a master plan that allowed him to enjoy chips without requiring his hand to ever move too far from his mouth.

His hoodie was on backwards and the bag of chips rested in the hood, inches away from his mouth.

After a particularly enormous yawn, Murasakibara decided that it was about time for bed. The chips were deposited unceremoniously on his messy desk full of unread newspapers and snack wrappers, arousing no concern that they had scattered all over the surface.

He lumbered over to his deplorably unkempt bed and fell over. Before the clock read 2:04, Murasakibara Atsushi was asleep.

**-5-**

**2:57 a.m.: driven by weeping storm clouds**

A peaceful night such as this held the perfect conditions for late-night studying. Outside wept a storm, full of bitter rain and hollow winds. Any sound from inside or out was muted. Midorima, had he the time, would have smiled in satisfaction. But he had neither the time nor, he was soon to learn, the occasion, for through the sound of the downpour cut his roommate's voice:

"Yo, Midorima. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Without giving his roommate the slightest hint of recognition, Midorima flipped the page to his organic chemistry textbook and scribbled onwards.

"Yo, man, it's three. I want to sleep. And you know I can't sleep with the lights on."

"Purchase a sleeping mask," Midorima said. "I have told you many times that it is your lucky item of the year, but you fail to take heed of my suggestions. You have only yourself to blame."

"Come on—"

"Tanaka Tarou," Midorima said, slapping his pencil onto the desk. "While you may be as average as your name, I am not. I am planning to graduate from university in three years and from medical school in three. Allow me peace in my studies."

Tanaka Tarou shrugged and pulled the covers around his head. "I was going to say that it's not good for your health. I've been your roommate since freshman year, and you don't look the same as you did back then."

"My health is my own business," Midorima shot back. "And I'll have you know that your concern for me goes unappreciated. So, stop."

"Jeez, alright. Just remember to thank me when I call the ambulances to save you from becoming some husk of yourself."

Midorima was already back to his textbook. How presumptuous of his roommate to think that Midorima's health had deteriorated to the point where it needed concern. He ate his meals regularly, twice a day. He washed his hands routinely. He went to bed by four and woke up at seven. Everything about his schedule was completely, meticulously regulated, and there was no way he, Midorima Shintarou, would have to worry about something so trivial as his health.

"Listen," Tanaka said. Midorima heaved a sigh. The stupid baboon would do better to just bury his head in his blankets and suffocate. "No, really, listen. I talked to one of your friends from high school the other day. One Kazunari Takao. Ring a bell?"

There was a pause in Midorima's pencil scratching. After a moment, he resumed.

"Not really."

Tanaka Tarou sighed, like he knew Midorima was playing dumb. "He didn't give me the details, but he thinks you're blaming yourself for something that happened when you guys were finishing up your first year of high school."

There was a snap; Midorima couldn't help it. He had broken his pencil in two. Tanaka Tarou had emerged from his cave of blankets and was studying Midorima with an eye that was too un-average to fit his name. "This is what it's all about, isn't it? All this work is to keep you busy so that you don't have any time to think about things."

"Unlike you, my head is filled with many things," Midorima said through gritted teeth. He wanted to tell Tanaka Tarou that he knew nothing, to shut up. It infuriated him that an _outsider_ was trying to patronize him.

"And maybe even your aspirations for medical school were influenced by that, too. I don't know what you think you did back then," Tanaka Tarou said. He was finally retreating back into his blankets. "But killing yourself isn't going to redeem you. Take better care of yourself."

Moments later, the air was filled with only the sound of Tanaka Tarou's snores. And a minute after that, the sound of a fresh pencil scratching away at paper smothered his snores out.

**-6-**

**3:00 a.m.: too big and too insignificant**

The mahogany desk at which he sat seemed a little oversized for him, yet his presence was still commanding and put to rest any doubt that he was unfit for a position behind that desk. A large stack of papers sat to his left—_finished_—and a smaller pile was to his right—_unfinished_. The spacious room was lit by only the smallest of desk-lamps—and he preferred this quiet light to the harshness of the overhead bulbs.

With a sigh, he rose from his chair and strode to the window. On nights like these, his office, situated on the topmost, twenty-seventh floor, provided him the greatest of views. Rainwater was sliding down the glass panels, bending the city lights such that they reminded him of rings of fairies dancing in a circle.

He blinked. To be imagining fairies in a circle, he must be very tired indeed.

Before he retired for the night, he set his desk in order. His name plaque, reading _Akashi Seijuuro_, was slightly off-center. With an expression that indicated nothing, he put it straight.

Balancing a university degree and partial management of his father's company was no easy feat, but of course, it was well within the capabilities of a member of the Akashi household. Akashi had no objections, and he excelled in both areas. He was being hailed as Japan's youngest leader and was maintaining top of his class. He was lauded for his serene, sincere personality, cool, quick judgment, and stunning charisma. They credited his father for his excellent upbringing, but the one they should be applauding was a boy who could no longer be found anywhere on the face of the earth. The boy who, though was thought to be nothing but a shadow, changed Akashi for the better.

But, it seemed that no matter how famous or rich or charismatic one was, one could never have what one desired most. No matter how famous or rich or charismatic he was, he could not convince Death to send back over the river the life of one Kuroko Tetsuya.

He was often busy, so he had installed a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen—essentially an entire flat on the floor of his office. He was often busy because he could not turn to anyone for help. Such a thing would undermine his position as the esteemed leader of the Akashi Corporation and give reason to the rumors he knew floated even on the floors of his own building.

With a click, the humble light popped out of existence. For a while, Akashi stood at the window, simply looking over the cityscape. And when he had finally had his fill of the world that was too big for him and his position at the top of the building that was too insignificant, he retreated quietly to his bedroom and shut the door tight.

* * *

><p><em>This is a haiku<br>__New project to rewrite this  
><em>_Hopefully better_


	2. sounds like rain

**sounds like rain**

**-1-**

**Saturday**

**12:01 a.m.: shooting stars from his bum**

It wasn't often that Aomine ran into people from his high school days, but when he did, he often didn't think much of it.

That was mainly because they weren't the people who really _mattered._ He could take that slimy glasses-wearing bastard any day and talk to him like a normal person; he could tolerate the deceiving bastard who acted as if he was sorry for even breathing the same air as everyone else. He ran into them, conversed a little, then left without feeling much. It was like stepping on dead leaves. They occupied your thoughts for a little while, but then when you were done with them, they fled your mind.

Kicking a puppy, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Depending on what type of person you were, you might feel extraordinarily vindicated. Or, like Aomine, you would be plagued by guilt and by the wailing face of the offended puppy for the rest of your days and by the knowledge that you were not very good at making metaphors.

What Aomine was _really_ trying to say was that although he didn't care much for the lower life forms from high school, if he ever ran into people of colorful hairstyles, he was bound to carry a very oscillatory mood for the rest of the day. And more often than not, his two choice moods were anger and depression. Those people brought back things that clung to him tighter than the face of an abject dog whose legs had just been kicked out from under it.

So, it was perfectly explanatory that Aomine found himself to be in a wonderfully foul mood as Officer Yu drove him and that blond brat to—

To…

"So, where are we going?" Aomine said after a moment of mental face-punching when he realized that he was so caught up in being angry at the blond brat that Officer Yu could have been taking them both to a serial killer's den and he wouldn't have cared at all.

"An old friend's house," Officer Yu said. He offered Aomine a stick of gum, which was refused. "Since this 'Kise Ryouta' seems to be a friend—"

"He's not my friend," Aomine muttered. "And I don't need friends."

With a grumble, Aomine slouched in his seat, tucked his mouth under the collar of his jacket, and lowered the window.

"It reeks," he said to no one in particular. A few moments later, he found himself shivering and begrudgingly closed the window.

"Or maybe you just don't want friends?" Officer Yu said belatedly, casting Aomine a sidelong glance.

"Shut up, old man."

"Sounds like rain," Officer Yu commented vaguely as he pulled into a driveway belonging to an average-sized house settled in a large plot of land. "I'll go ring the doorbell, so you carry this 'Kise Ryouta.'"

"Shoving the grunt work off on me," Aomine grumbled, but he grudgingly got out of the car. "But it's three in the morning… I'd be mad as hell if someone came by to drop a drunk kid off at this time."

Kise smelled awful, and that was a kind way of putting it. Aomine grimaced and dragged him out of the car, smirking when Kise fell to the ground with a satisfying thunk. He pulled him by the arm until he hit the steps leading to the door, at which point he had the good grace to pick Kise up by the armpits and deposit him on the welcome mat.

"Your old man friend not answering the door?" Aomine said.

"He'll answer," Officer Yu said. He swung his arms around and then assumed a boxing stance. "You think I could punch the door down?"

"No," the door said, and it opened. The porch light flooded the patio and illuminated their to-be-host, a man who looked to be in his early thirties. A healthy crop of black hair flopped over black, sleep-ridden eyes. At Aomine's height, he would have stood about two inches taller than his policeman friend had he not been slouching.

"Oh, you again," he said, making to close the door. As if rehearsed, Officer Yu immediately wedged his foot against the door.

"Sup."

"Lol, I'm J-K. Come in," the man said, opening the door wide. Aomine blinked a little because, if his ears were not deceiving him, the man had just pronounced 'lol' as if it were a word and spelled out 'jk,' the abbreviation for 'just kidding.'

"Jesus," Aomine muttered, hauling Kise into the house.

"You can set the kid on the couch over there," the man said. "I'll bring some clean clothes. I'm Shiroko Toru, by the way. You are?"

"Aomine Daiki," Aomine mumbled, trudging to the couch, which was, thank god, only a few feet away. He thought that smelling any more of Kise than he already had would drive him insane.

When he came back with the clothes, Toru nudged Aomine with a sly grin. "What do you think about my youthful ways, huh?"

"What?" Aomine said, pulling a face. "You mean saying 'lol' and 'jk' like an idiot?"

"Is that any way to speak to your elder—no, I cannot say it," Toru said, touching his forehead as if afflicted. Aomine was horrified to find that he was suddenly reminded of a certain Konoha's Green Beast. "I am a man in the springtime of his youth. To admit to being an elder would be a great fallacy…"

"What…"

"I," Toru said dramatically, "have a son."

He looked at Aomine as if that explained everything and sighed when Aomine returned a flat stare.

Waving fingers in the air, Toru elaborated, "He's going to be five soon, and I'm already thirty. I have to keep up with the youth of today if I want to be able converse with the youth of tomorrow—namely, my son. Ah," Toru lamented with the voice of a flowery man too burdened by life, "F-M-L, I am aging too quickly."

"Talking like an idiot isn't going to stop yourself from aging," Aomine said under his breath before busying himself with removing Kise's vomit-slathered shirt.

"Although I guess FML isn't an appropriate thing to say around children?" Toru was muttering. "Tetsuya _is_ only four…"

Aomine's heart skipped a beat. His fingers froze on the last button of Kise's shirt.

"Who?" His voice cracked.

"Tetsuya?"

"His son," Officer Yu filled in as he came from another room of the house, presumably the kitchen, as he had a cup of water in one hand. "Sorry, Toru, Aomine's friend… the one from five years ago, the boy who was hit in the intersection…"

With a small smile, Toru reached out a hand; Aomine flinched, but all Toru did was ruffle Aomine's hair.

His somber mood diffused spontaneously. "I'll get some sheets…. So, BRB!"

The way Toru exited made Aomine swear he could have seen stars erupting from Toru's bum. His eye twitched violently, and he started convincing himself that he would wake up the next morning and remember nothing.

"You just saw stars shooting out of his backside, didn't you," Officer Yu commented casually. "He does that a lot."

Aomine growled exasperatedly and shook his head as if trying to physically rid himself of the image.

"Never mind that," he said with great distaste. "Did you tell him about me?"

Officer Yu shrugged. "I did."

"Why? I don't even know that man. Not to mention…" _I'd rather not have a man who has the ability to make people hallucinate stars shooting from butts know anything about me._

"Despite how he seems, he's a good man," Officer Yu said breezily. "Sometimes I see things I don't like seeing, and Toru often finds himself in my company when I am drunk off duty."

Aomine scoffed. "You get drunk?"

Officer Yu shrugged. "When it sounds like rain."

Aomine grumbled under his breath, "I hate your stupid metaphors…"

"Your metaphors aren't any better," Officer Yu pointed out.

"I'm done," Aomine said, tossing Kise's dirty shirt over the blond brat's face. "Let's get out of here."

Officer Yu clapped a hand on Aomine's shoulder and cleared his throat.

"Hm… This… how should I say it. You're staying here for the night."

"What."

Against two adults, one with a fearsome power and the other with fearsome martial arts abilities, Aomine stood no chance. He raged (quietly, as Toru insisted, because his son was sleeping) to no avail.

"You need sleep," Officer Yu said as their argument wound down, herding Aomine towards the smelly blond brat.

"ASAP," Toru agreed. "Now, look, there's a nice couch right next to your friend—"

"_He's not my friend,"_ Aomine snarled.

In the silence, they could hear the first of the raindrops beginning to land on the rooftop.

"Sounds like rain," Officer Yu commented quietly. Aomine saw his eyes travel to the window, where the water was beginning to come down in rivulets.

"Oh," Officer Yu said, as if something had just hit him.

Aomine's fists tightened at his sides.

"It's him. One of the boys who were with you on that day. So this is what became of him," Officer Yu said even more softly than before. He reached out a hand to the blond who was—

_crumbling . . ._

_—__repeating over and over:__"It's my fault. I was standing right behind him. I was standing right behind him. It's my fault."_

_"Stop, Ryouta. Speculating—"_

_"I was standing right behind him."_

_"Shut up already!"_

_"But I _pushed him_."_

_. . . to pieces . . ._

"Here's a pillow, and here's a blanket. If you're cold, just holler and I'll be right down. The wife called and said there was an emergency in the hospital, so she'd be staying later, so if someone comes in when you're sleeping, don't freak out, just the wife."

"I don't know why I'm doing this…"

"Because you care about your friend!" Toru said brightly. "I think you and Tetsuya would be great friends."

Aomine winced. Toru smiled and ruffled his hair. Officer Yu tucked a hand into his pocket and checked his watch.

"I should get back to patrolling. Thanks for letting them stay."

"NP, man."

"Officer Yu," Aomine tried. "Can't you just take me with you?"

Officer Yu took the few steps to stand in front of Aomine and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's raining now," he said quietly. "But you can't let it rain forever. Let the sun shine every once in a while."

"You sound like a sentimental freak," Aomine grumbled. "Don't you get embarrassed saying that sort of crap?"

He let his head turn enough so he could glance at Kise, who had since been changed into a clean t-shirt and shorts. _Let the sun shine…_

"I don't know what you think, Aomine," Officer Yu said. "It might be raining for you, but for that kid, Kise Ryouta…"

"I know," Aomine said with a sigh.

For that kid, Kise Ryouta, it's a downpour.

_. . . but starlight laughs . . ._

_"__Why couldn't you do anything? You're a policeman aren't you? Your job is to save people! So why didn't you save him!?"_

_"__Daiki, calm yourself—"_

_Fist slamming against the wall. The shuffle of feet. The sound of desperation and despair._

_"__Officer Yu, correct? Please give us a few moments."_

_. . . and the world spins on._

"Bastard," Aomine huffed, tugging the blankets up to his chin. He sent a death glare at the motionless lump on the other couch. Toru had retreated upstairs to the master bedroom to sleep—or maybe to gaze creepily upon his sleeping son; Aomine wouldn't put it past him—so it was just him and Kise downstairs. Raindrops were splattering against the windows, and there was just enough light from the street lamp outside to make them glow orange.

He took a deep breath, and then he told Kise, who probably wasn't even listening, what he'd been telling himself for the past four years:

"Tetsu might be gone, but that doesn't mean we should go following after him."

He guessed Kise must have woken up at some point during his sappy speech, because he heard one deep breath before the rain took over and washed the sound away.

**-2-  
>10:54 a.m.: the brat with blue eyes<strong>

Some demon was prodding the side of his face, and Aomine Daiki was_ not_ happy about it.

He tried to swat at away as if it were but a fly, but somehow (maybe because his eyes were closed) it evaded him. Pesky insect. He groaned and rolled over, prepared to wait it out, but then a jab so hard that it felt like skin had broken arrived, and he shot up straight—

"_God…_"

It seemed he had sprained his neck.

While one hand massaged his neck, the other reached out for the nuisance with only one goal: _kill._

He grabbed something oddly soft. His eyes popped open, and he was almost bowled over by the power of a star-shooting grin full of missing and growing teeth.

"Hi! Hi, hi, hi, _hi!_"

"Good god—" Aomine said.

"Hands off my son!" cried out an indignant voice, and poor Aomine found himself subject to a great clobbering by a cast-iron pan.

To his utter irritation, throughout the entire ordeal, he was forced to listen to a high-pitched, excited serenade of "Daddy's using violence! Daddy's using violence!"

As if he couldn't tell.

A few minutes later, Toru was apologizing unapologetically while holding his son protectively in a suffocating embrace. The brat seemed to be used to it, for all he was doing was sticking his tongue out at Aomine. And that's when Aomine noticed—

That he was incredibly hungry.

As his stomach gurgled in agony, the brat gurgled in joy. Toru winked at Aomine and whipped from thin air a platter of sandwiches.

"I got your back, yo," Toru said and Aomine swore he saw a star shoot out from the wink Toru sent his way. "And before you TY (thank you) me, I gotta say it was NP (no problem)."

"I'll thank you when you stop talking like a moron," Aomine grumbled, swiping a couple of sandwiches off the plate. He looked to his side and smiled grimly when he saw Kise still knocked out cold.

"Lazy son of a bi—" was all he got out before he was elegantly silenced by a sandwich to the face.

"Not around the kid."

Aomine glowered at the brat, still stinging from the recent beating from both father and son. And that's when he _finally_ noticed—

"I have no pants on," he said abruptly. "Old man, I can barely condone your pedophilic tendencies towards your son—"

"Daddy, what's 'pee-doe-fill-ick' mean?"

"But I _really_ can't stand perverts pervert-ing over me."

"_NON_SENSE!" Toru all but bellowed, and the sandwich platter was thrown to the air as he flung his arms into a great X. "My poor Tetsuya, erase all the words this vile creature has spouted in the past five minutes from your pure mind!"

Aomine snorted and left the father-son duo to their own devices while he polished off the rest of the sandwiches.

"Hungry," he grunted, and that's all it took for Toru to whisk him away to the kitchen and set about to cooking up an omelet.

Which left Aomine alone with the brat. Something with which he was not very comfortable. Because no matter how much he directed his attention elsewhere, he could not dispute the fact that this boy, Shiroko Tetsuya, had the exact same pair of eyes as the friend he'd lost almost five years ago.

So identical that it made him sick to his stomach. It had taken all of his willpower to not jump out the window right then and there.

"I should leave," he muttered.

"Your friend isn't awake yet."

"Tell him I said—never mind," Aomine muttered. "I need to—I can't stay here."

"Won't he be sad?"

It pierced right through him, every word.

"I'd be sad," the kid said. "Really really really really really—"

"I—" Aomine said helplessly, unwittingly casting a glance at the kid. His stomach flipped. The kid was making puppy dog eyes. With Kuroko's eyes.

Aomine crumbled.

"…I'll stay…" he mumbled. As the kid cheered, he resigned himself to a fate of misery.

Aomine tried to keep himself sane by entertaining himself with anything that was not the kid. The spoons. So shiny. The countertop. Nice granite. The cabinets—

"Much polish, right?"

Aomine groaned.

"Anything but doge…"

"Ojii-san doesn't like doggy?"

"Uh… doggy and doge aren't the same…" he said flouderingly, realizing that the way he pronounced it, doggy and doge sounded exactly the same. Oh god. The kid was staring at him again. Eyes wide, sparkling with mischief.

"Tetsuya, can you go try and wake up the blond kid on the couch?" Toru said. "Breakfast—should I say lunch? Brunch? Is ready. Pls."

Aomine choked on his water—_did he really just say 'pliss' instead of please—_and launched himself out of his seat. "I-I'll wake him up."

"Oh? Sudden change of heart?"

"Something like that," Aomine mumbled. The truth was that Kise would probably die from shock if he combined the sight of Kuroko's eyes with his probable hangover. Aomine kicked Kise in the stomach. The blond groaned and began moving.

"Wake up," Aomine said ruthlessly. "Breakfast is ready."

In the background, he could hear the brat making _zoom zoom_ noises as he ran from wall to wall with a cape flying from his shoulders. _Sooooper hero! Sidekick! _

"Who…?"

Kise's eyes finally opened. Their eyes locked. Still the same gold Aomine remembered. But the fear—and was that shame?—that flickered across them was new.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed. Was planning to add something else, but wanted to get it out sooner rather than later. Thanks for the feedback so far and, as always, leave a review if it's not too much trouble!<em>

_Happy new year, all! I hope it's full of luck and love._


	3. a toast to you(th)

**Saturday**

**-1-**

**11:30 a.m.: a toast to you(th)**

"Aomine?"

Aomine's head tilted involuntarily at the way Kise called his name. But recovery was quick to come. Why should he be surprised at something like that? Years had gone by. Expecting people to be the same and to carry the same habits was more unreasonable than believing them to have changed. And had Kise Ryouta changed.

He had changed so much.

What happened to the boy with the golden smile?

"You're finally awake?" Aomine said derisively. Kise blinked bleary eyes, no doubt trying to ward off a pounding headache. And to no avail, it seemed. He held one hand against the side of his temple and the other hand a ways from his eyes to shield them from the grey light seeping through the window.

It was a pathetic sight that made Aomine somewhat angry. But as quickly as the anger came, it was replaced by a sensation of defeat that was becoming more and more familiar to him these days.

_It became familiar the day Kuroko died_, whispered a snide voice in the back of his head. He shooed it away. That name wasn't said anymore. That name meant bad things.

"Where am I?" Kise had the mind to ask.

Aomine snorted and rolled his head on his neck, feeling the joints pop. "I found you while on patrol last night. The officer I was with brought you here since you were clearly—" he said this with a pointed look in Kise's direction. "Too incapacitated to take care of yourself. Be grateful, you sack of shit."

"Whatever," Kise mumbled. He clambered out of the sheets, not even realizing that all he had on was an oversized t-shirt as he made his way towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Aomine said, grabbing Kise's arm. With a roughness Aomine had never known from Kise, his grip was thrown.

"Fuck off," Kise said. Anger Aomine hadn't felt in such a long time reared inside his chest, and he took Kise by the shoulder and slammed him against the wall.

"Listen, I don't know what you have stuck up your ass," Aomine snarled, face inches away from Kise's. "But I'm not taking that shit from you. I see you for the first time in over a year, and this is what you present yourself as?"

Unadulterated frustration.

But not directed only towards Kise.

Somehow, Aomine felt partly responsible for this. After all, he'd been no better than Kise. Sure, he might have his life patched together with staples and tape, but he'd made no effort—_nobody_ had made any effort to string their relationships together and check up on each other. And somehow, he got the feeling that if they had all just stopped wallowing in the wake of Kuroko's—_don't say that name—_death and paid attention to each other, maybe Kise wouldn't be like—like this—

This cold figure of frozen gold with muddy eyes that could barely focus.

"Present myself as what?" Kise all but spat. "Who am I presenting myself to? You? Quit joking yourself, Aomine. Do you even care? Did you care the past four years?"

Aomine gritted his teeth because he had nothing to say to that.

"There's nothing to care about," Kise snarled. "I'm doing perfectly fine. So fuck off."

"If you're fine, then are you happy?" Aomine asked brusquely.

He wanted Kise to flinch or maybe to dissolve into tears, do anything reminiscent of his younger years. But the blond turned on him with one of the blankest stares Aomine had ever received and said, "Do you think I deserve to be happy? I've said it already," Kise said, finally breaking Aomine's grip. "_I am fine."_

Aomine opened his mouth—for what, he didn't know; he didn't have any retorts or wise words of wisdom or cajoling words; he had nothing. But as he waited for something to come out, another voice spoke:

"Are you fighting?"

Aomine's blood froze.

_Not_ _now_. Not now of all times.

Because as much as Kise Ryouta was pissing the hell out of Aomine, Aomine didn't want him to—_if he hadn't already—break._

"Daddy said that when you're hungry, you get really, really, really cranky. But I got food, see?"

Aomine could barely bring himself to breathe as he watched Kise's eyes move slowly, so slowly, as if time had almost stopped, to the small boy he knew was standing right behind him. The golden eyes blinked disbelievingly, and, like a bug drawn towards light, Aomine's head turned to look at the blue-eyed boy, who was holding a steaming plate of omelet.

Shiroko Tetsuya gave them a toothy smile with the front teeth missing and held the plate up even higher.

"So let's eat breakfast!"

It was like torture to bring his eyes back to Kise's face, to watch his mouth open in confusion, to listen to his cracked voice breathe out a word that hadn't been said in years:

"Kurokocchi…?"

And when the boy responded to him, Aomine could tell that Kise felt like he'd been punched in the gut just by watching his eyes.

He knew it too well, because when he'd heard the name and seen the face associated with it, he'd felt exactly the same.

Because it was all so, so wrong, and so, so twisted, and it felt like something beyond all of them was jeering at them from afar.

But despite it all, the world would spin on.

"What's a Kurokocchi? I'm Tetsuya."

And it hurt all over again to hear the name that shouldn't have been coming from the mouth of the boy with Kuroko Tetsuya's eyes:

"Shiroko Tetsuya!"

But despite this revelation, Kise was shrinking away from those blue eyes of Tetsuya's, the same way Aomine wanted to hide from them himself the first time he'd seen them. Perhaps a few years ago, when he was less tired and more angry, he might have reacted the same way as Kise—_face pale, eyes shocked, frozen—_but now, today, these days, he was so incredibly tired…

So all he could do was stare dumbly along with Kise.

Because this was his punishment. Living with the knowledge that in this world lived a boy called Shiroko Tetsuya wish Kuroko Tetsuya's eyes was his punishment.

His punishment for being helpless on that day.

"Tetsuya?" A woman's voice.

Somebody was lumbering down the stairs like a bear wakened from hibernation. Thankful for the diversion, Aomine turned his gaze up to see a woman in a long black dress stumbling down the stairs.

"Did you bring that for me, Tetsuya? God, you're the _best_."

"No!" Tetsuya said, sticking his tongue out at the woman. "Not for mommy! For Potato-man and his friend!"

"Potato-man?" the woman echoed.

"Potato-man?" Aomine spluttered.

"But I'm _hungry,_" the woman said. "And Potato-man here doesn't seem to have any manners…"

She pierced Aomine with a glare that made him sorry to have even been born. He released Kise immediately, which evidently was a bad idea. Kise slid to the floor as if his knees had turned to jelly.

"Mom's _very_ hungry, Tetsuya," she said imploringly. "If you don't feed mom this instant, she'll keel right over and hate you forever."

"No she won't!" Tetsuya said with the utmost confidence. "Mom will love me forever and ever!"

And with that, Tetsuya hopped over to Kise and shoved the plate into his hands.

"Cute brat," his mother snorted, scooping him up into her arms. She held a hand out to Aomine, who blinked at it stupidly.

"I assume you have a name other than what my son christened you with," she prompted. "Unless you prefer to be called 'Potato-man' for the rest of your visit here…"

"Aomine," he grumbled, grasping her hand. "Aomine Daiki."

"And your friend?"

Aomine's eye twitched; he wanted nothing more than to deny all association with the blond zombie at his feet. "Kise Ryouta."

"Does he have a fetish for small, cute children?" she said. "He's staring an awful lot at Tetsuya."

"Mom, what's a fetish?"

"It's the worst flavor of ice cream," she responded absently. "I'm Rin, by the way. Shiroko Rin. And I assume you've met Toru?"

Aomine shivered. Rin smirked knowingly before turning to Kise.

"Ryouta-kun, it's good to meet you," she said in a sweet voice. She held out her hand and smiled encouragingly at Kise, making Aomine wonder if she'd had a lot of experience with these types of people. "Let's go eat breakfast before Toru comes here and drags us with ropes of rainbows and stars."

"I-I should leave," Kise muttered, clambering to his feet. Rin's smile widened, and she all but thrust her hand into Kise's free one and crushed it in her grip.

"You are more than welcome to stay for lunch," she said. "I _insist_."

Aomine took a rather large gulp at the smile on her face and wrote down in his mental notebook to never get on Shiroko Rin's bad side.

She shoved him lightly in the direction of the kitchen and set Tetsuya on the ground. He clung to her legs, babbling happily.

"He looks lost," she said. Aomine looked confused, and she indicated with her chin the blond boy who was currently being assaulted by a large dosage of youth. "That Kise Ryouta."

Aomine cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "I guess."

Being looked at by Shiroko Rin was like being scrutinized under a microscope. Suddenly, she grabbed Aomine by the arm and flung him into the kitchen. With an ungainly squawk, Aomine stumbled, arms pinwheeling, and landed next to Kise.

"Food!" Rin cried, sweeping immediately after him. "Food!"

"Love!" Toru replied, trying to plant a kiss on his wife's cheek. "Youth!"

Rin drew barstools up for all of them to use at the counter, and Toru passed out omelets like Frisbees. He held up a glass of orange juice in a mock toast, and smiled warmly at Aomine, who was glaring moodily at his own cup.

Rin, who had Aomine and Kise sitting on either side of her, grabbed both their arms to participate in the toast.

"To youth," Toru said, a twinkle in his eye.

Rin was the only one to echo it. Tetsuya was already guzzling his juice, and Aomine and Kise were far too gone to even humor the idea of playing along.

But before Toru had even lowered his glass, Kise was up and out of his seat. Aomine's chair clattered to the floor as he followed suit, and he managed to catch Kise by the wrist at the front door and turned him around harshly.

Kise's eyes were almost unbearable; they told Aomine he wanted to scream and cry all at the same time.

"So you still think that you're fine?" Aomine said quietly.

The look in the golden gaze was all it took for Aomine to know that right then and there, Kise wanted to die.

He was gone in a flash. Aomine didn't try to follow him. Out of courtesy, he returned to the kitchen and mumbled an apology.

Nobody asked him any questions.

But at the end of their meal, Toru laid a hand on Aomine's shoulder and said, "Ah, youth… the way it makes us boil over so with great spirit!"

Aomine groaned.

"And yet, how elusive it is to some," Toru continued, completely oblivious to—more like ignoring—Aomine's exasperation with his prattles of youth. "TBH, when I was your age, I also was bellicose and wont towards destruction. And nothing would set me straight! I had lost all hope in myself, but then I met I realized the central dogma of life: If you believe in youth, youth will believe in you!"

"You're making me feel grossed out _and_ you're not making _any_ sense at all," Aomine grumbled, brushing off Toru's hand. "Thanks for the meal."

"It'll make sense to you one day," Rin said with a light laugh. As she took up his empty plate, she leaned forward and said softly, "Although, I expect it already does."

With a wink, but not before he got Aomine's number (which he would regret sorely in the coming days when his inbox was overwhelmed with picture texts of Tetsuya and gross fawning), Toru sent Aomine away.

It was late at night when Toru's extremely mushy words came back to mind. Aomine rolled over on his creaky bed, phone inches away from his hand.

_If you believe in youth, youth will believe in you!_

He rolled over again onto his back and stared up at the darkness above him. If he stared hard enough, he imagined he could see the purest color of gold staring right back at him. Something inside him ached. It was like missing something you knew you could never have again.

"If I believe in him, he'll believe in me… Peh, that sounds so retarded."

Aomine felt very grateful that he lived alone, because he wasn't sure he would be able to live with himself if he knew someone else had heard him say something so… a grumble, Aomine groped for his phone and squinted in the sudden light.

"But that isn't enough," Aomine mumbled. "It's no good if he believes in _me. _What about believing in himself? You old, useless, youth-obsessed fart. Just go get botox and shut up already."

His contact page stared at him.

"If I believe in him, he'll believe in me…"

Aomine's finger hovered over Kise's name.

"But if I believe in him, and he believes in me, then he'll believe in himself…"

Thinking was too damn hard. Aomine sneezed from brain exertion.

And his finger hit Kise's number.

By the time his mistake registered in his brain, the call was already in progress.

"…Fuck!"

* * *

><p><em>Short chapter this week, but next week's is already pretty much done. Really, this should have been in last weeks' chapter, bleh. Trying to get as much written as possible before school starts (ARGHSKDFJIWOEIRU) so that I don't leave people hanging for too long between each chapter. <em>

_Judging from reviews, seems like people want more ~feels~. That's actually the opposite of why I wanted to rewrite this; I felt like I spent too much time lingering on how they were feeling and was making everything too dramatic and that that was slowing down the plot. Aomine: I purposely pared down the volatile reaction he had in the previous version because my plans for him involved him mellowing out after Kuroko's death, losing the fire he'd once had._

_But the readers asked, and the author will answer... hoo hoo hoo. _

_As always, if you have time or have any comment/question/concern, please leave a review! Especially now since I must drag myself out of bed now and do Real Work, reviews are greatly appreciated. _


	4. unexpected encounters

**Tuesday **

**8:30 a.m.: like meeting ET**

A few days after he set eyes on that kid who looked too much like Kuroko, Kagami woke from his sleep drenched in sweat. Disgustedly, he wiped his brow with a shaking hand, berating himself for being such a wuss. Nightmares that devolved him into a quivering mess? What a joke! Moreover, nightmares about something that had happened nearly five years ago…

"I'm such an IDIOT!" Kagami squawked, slam dunking his face into his pillow. While not the wisest choice he had made in his life, it also wasn't the worst. The impact made his head spin, but at least he hadn't done it against the wall…

With a jolt, he realized he was about to be late for his boring-as-hell job. He shot out of bed and brushed his teeth in record breaking time.

"Mornin,'" he mumbled as he slunk into the grocery store two minutes late. His boss sent him the stink eye, but he ignored it, taking his position at the farthest lane. He sighed. At this time of day, there were hardly any customers.

A magazine caught his eye—of course it was about basketball. He eagerly picked it up and flipped through the pages. A new pair of basketball shoes had been released—limited edition, super expensive, endorsed by some great basketball player who had reached heights Kagami would never reach—

He shook his head and put the magazine down. Just in time; a customer was approaching him.

"Good morning… did you find everything you needed?"

At lunchtime, Kagami took off his name pin and headed off for a bite to eat. He could have opted to buy an employee-discount priced lunch from the store, but he was sick of the place. The nearest restaurant was rather pricy but delicious to the extreme.

And bank account? What was that? Life should be lived treating oneself.

Bank account…

Bank…

"Peh, who cares about money anyways," Kagami grumbled, finding himself sorely missing the pristine apartment his father had rented out for him back in high school. Well, losing it was the price he paid for deciding not to continue school…

Hunger grumbles accompanying his complaining grumbles filling his ears, he jogged to the restaurant. It was pleasantly empty, only a few customers since it was relatively late for lunch. He got himself a nice table in the corner and ordered his usual favorites—_no such thing as crying bank accounts!—_folded his arms, and leaned his head back to take a snooze while he waited. He heard the bell attached to the door ring a couple times, signaling the arrival of the hungry.

His nose twitched. It smelled kind of like steak. Ah, steak… he could almost feel the meat in between his teeth. He imagined a line of 4 kg steaks set before him on pristine plates, waiting to be devoured. The golden image that sent him into a giggling, drooling mess dissolved into one of the ordinary restaurant where he and his team had taken on the challenge of eating a 4kg steak, and suddenly he wasn't feeling so giddy anymore. It reminded him of how Kuroko wasn't able to eat even half and how Kagami eagerly took the rest from him (and the rest of the team). And that reminded him of how much fun they all used to have—how much fun they all used to have playing basketball and how much fun it had been playing basketball with Kuroko and how Kuroko couldn't play basketball anymore and how Kuroko couldn't do anything anymore because he was _dead_, freaking _dead_, and—

"Your meal has arrived, sir," came the voice from above. "If you'd like to order anything else, please wave me over."

Appetite suddenly gone, Kagami stared dully at the two gourmet burgers, fries, and udon soup in front of him.

"Could I have a take-out box, please?" he said weakly before the waiter left. "I… ordered a little too much."

Thinking about the past sort of took the life out of him.

As the waiter retrieved a box, Kagami busied himself by folding his napkin until it was a square no bigger than his fingernail. He took a handful of fries for the sake of saving himself the pain of later eating cold fries. Hot fries were pretty damn good. He took a bite out of his burger and washed it down with the soup. By the time the waiter had returned, every dish had been licked clean, and Kagami sat there looking a little sheepish and still hungry and red-eyed.

"Did something get into your eyes, sir?" the waiter asked.

"No. Sorry for the trouble. Here's my card…"

The moment the waiter took his card, a cry of distress reached Kagami.

"Ah, I forgot my wallet! FML, what do I do?"

Kagami's ear twitched and involuntarily, he turned to the source of the despairing voice, because it sounded vaguely familiar. His eyebrows popped off his head. It was the father of the kid who looked too much like Kuroko. He was searching his pockets and patting himself all over desperately—_but really, why are you checking your socks, who would keep their wallet in their socks_—but to no avail. The man looked up; Kagami was still staring; and unfortunately, their eyes met.

It was like touching fingertips with ET.

A strange and alien experience, except it wasn't awe-inspiring in any way.

Somehow, Kagami found himself begrudgingly paying for the man's meal as well. He cursed himself for being shamefully soft and squishy inside. He could feel his bank account withering.

"OMG, TYVM," the man was saying. "OMG, I cannot thank you enough, young man. Young, valiant, selfless man. Goodness, did anyone ever tell you your eyebrows are _absolutely_ handsome?"

Kagami shuddered and regretted volunteering to help out this strange man.

"N-No, but thanks for the compliment. I'm done here, so… I'll be leaving first."

"Oh, no, no, no, I have to express my appreciation," the man was saying. "My name is Shiroko Toru, by the way. What's yours?"

"Kagami Taiga," Kagami muttered, desperately wishing for nothing more than for the freak of a father whose son looked too much like Kuroko to vanish himself away. "Listen, I should get back to work—"

"Oh! Now I remember why you look so familiar—and why your eyebrows are so dashing," the man called Toru said. "You're the cashier my son said had scissors for eyebrows, IIRC."

"IIRC?"

"If I recall correctly," Toru explained. He pumped a fist in the air. "I know something the youths of today do not!"

"N-No," Kagami said weakly. "I think you have the wrong person."

Toru held up a hand. "I may no longer be in my youth, but I still have faith in my memory. I have to pay you back. Why not have dinner at my house? I'm sure Tetsuya would be overjoyed to see you again."

"N-No," Kagami said faintly. "I don't think that's a good id—"

"Ah, the politeness of the youths of today!" Toru exclaimed. "Is this what's it's all about? Or is it politeness towards the elderly? If that's the case, I can't accept it! I, too, am a member of the youthful society!"

"N-No…" Kagami said, feeling very defeated.

"I'm sorry if I'm being overwhelming," Toru said apologetically. "I may have had too much coffee this morning. But as a result, I am feeling even more youthful than ever! Come, let us celebrate the wondrous powers of youth together! I insist that you visit my humble abode and join my family for dinner tonight as a form of repayment for rescuing me in my dire times of need."

_Jesus, calm down or something._

"O-Okay," Kagami said, more to get rid of the man than anything.

"Totally rad!"

"…What?"

"Is that no longer a thing?" Toru said, looking pensive. "Well, whatever. I'll pick you up along with my son—he's in preschool, did you know?" Toru said, looking like a proud peacock. To Kagami's eyes, he was off his rocker. Kagami cleared his throat, thoroughly concerned for the man's son and simultaneously wishing that he knew how to vanish into thin air like those ninjas from that one manga he sometimes read.

"Today he's on a field trip even though it's raining so hard; oh my, I hope he brought his umbrella with him! But back to the topic, my son and you would get along like two peas in a pod."

"C-Can we do this another time," Kagami said weakly as a last ditch effort to escape from what was certainly going to be the most painful night he would ever experience.

Toru smiled at him and never before had Kagami ever hated smiles so much.

"No!"

**-2-**

**Tuesday**

**2:53 p.m.: joker**

_[2:50]  
>I sent Moperima your way<br>You owe me  
>I expect a check in the mail<br>Bitch_

_[2:50]  
>kkcoolbeans<em>

_[2:51]  
>give that horseshit a lesson<br>he called me average last night  
>"You are as average as your name"<em>

_[2:51]  
>lol<em>

_[2:51]  
>who the fuck does he think he is<br>my mom_

_[2:52]  
>what lol<br>oh shit  
>he's here<br>c u_

_[11:52]  
>ICUP<em>

As he saw a familiar head of green hair enter the coffee shop, Takao hastily pocketed his phone and stood. Perhaps that was a bad idea, for at the sight of him, Midorima's eyes bugged out of his head like a very angry toad's.

"Yo!" Takao said cheerily to Midorima's retreating back. "I said hi!"

He thought he heard something like, "May you fail every exam you ever take," as Midorima opened to door and shook open his umbrella. But Takao was having none of that. He'd been trying for a week to contact Midorima, and the only successful manner was stalking down Midorima's roommate and messaging him online!

Which was, if Takao could say so himself, very uncharacteristic of him.

He remembered back in high school when he thought Midorima was too cool for school (too cold and dorky to have friends) and didn't even regard him as a tentative friend. If Midorima had become a hermit during that time, Takao wasn't even sure he would have gone chasing after him as he was now. Maybe for the sake of the team, but as a friend? He'd like to think that he would, out of the goodness of his heart, but he couldn't be sure.

And then that kid, Kuroko, came along, and suddenly (not really, more like over the course of weeks and weeks) Midorima was _all_ about teamwork in that tsundere way of his (99% tsun, 1% dere). Midorima was more bearable; Takao might have even said that he was a _friend_. Hell, they even had civil conversations once in a while when Midorima wasn't being annoyingly condescending. And Midorima actually _laughed_, not just with Takao, but with the rest of the team, extending on to even his classmates.

It was the weirdest thing, and should have made Takao think that some parasite had taken over Midorima's brain, but everyone (especially the girls) agreed—

It was a refreshing change.

Like a cool wind on a hot summer day.

And all because of Kuroko.

And then that kid, Kuroko, left, and suddenly (in one day), Midorima was no longer…

No longer anything, really.

Just rather cold… distant… With pinched lines under his eyes as if he wasn't getting enough sleep at night. Without the bandages he so meticulously wrapped around his hand as if he didn't care about basketball anymore. Without the snide quips towards Takao or anyone else.

And then, in passing, in frustration, Takao said something he never should have. He didn't really mean it; he didn't think Midorima would even hear it. He just wanted Midorima to stop being Moperima and go back to his normal self before Kuroko had died and the ivy called Guilt had sprung up around his feet…

"Well! Maybe if you'd been a doctor or something like that… but you can't do anything about it now."

He thought the green-haired boy would just ignore him, just as he always did those days, and let the world spin on.

But he didn't.

"If I'd… been a doctor…"

_. . . and there the guilt sprouted a vine . . ._

_"__I felt so useless… there was nothing I could do… it was the worst feeling I'd ever experienced in my life."_

_"__There was nothing any of us could do, Shintarou. Don't let guilt consume you."_

_"__You say that, but aren't you the same?" _

_The noise of a bottle being crumpled. A swish. The resonation it made when it bounced off the rim of a trashcan sitting only 10 feet away._

_Silence._

_"__He changed us."_

_"__Shintarou, this is unlike you."_

_"__Yet all we did in the end was make another promise that can never be fulfilled."_

_. . . that would choke him to death . . ._

Takao Kazunari was not feeling guilty. Not at all.

No, he would probably flush his face in a toilet a couple times before admitting that he was feeling guilty.

…He didn't want to flush his face in a toilet.

Takao Kazunari fully acknowledged the fact that he was feeling guilty.

It made him feel even more torn inside.

Was he trying to reach out to Midorima for Midorima's sake or for his own sake? Who was he trying to patch up?

"Aw, Midorima, shouldn't you greet an old friend cheerfully?" Takao said, grabbing Midorima by the arm. Midorima twitched at the contact.

"We were never friends," Midorima said stiffly, trying to shake off Takao's hold. When Takao wouldn't let go, he gave him a glare that was like having a nail hammered into him.

**-3-**

**Tuesday**

**2:50 p.m.: bad luck**

Midorima Shintarou was not having a good day.

It started with a foreboding feeling, kind of like an elderly person's joints hurting right before it rains. Just before he set out to meet a classmate to discuss a project, he was accosted by a massive headache that threatened to incapacitate him right then and there.

But, being Midorima Shintarou, he would not be conquered by a mere pain of the body.

So he set out, even though there were more things nagging him in the back of his mind.

First: how the appointment was created.

Tanaka Tarou, his average of the averages roommate, had casually told him that his project partner had lost his phone and asked him to tell Midorima to meet up at the café later that day.

Midorima should have called bullshit on his average roommate right then and there. The entire thing reeked of _that annoying man_ and yet…

He walked out his front door, teapot in hand, all the way to the café.

And to no surprise, when he arrived… There Kazunari Takao was, twiddling with his phone.

But instead of turning right on his heel and leaving—_because maybe it was just a coincidence; no, that's _not_ an excuse—_Midorima pushed open the door. And as he stood at the entrance, Kazunari Takao spotted him and pocketed his phone.

_You'll regret it._

"Aw, Midorima," Takao said, and for a moment there, that was all that Midorima heard.

Midorima?

Since when did Takao ever call him _Midorima?_

"…cheerfully?" Takao was saying. He grabbed Midorima by the arm, and Midorima finally reacted, more toward the way Takao had called him than by the way he was touching Midorima with his filthy fingers.

"We were never friends," Midorima said stiffly. He shook his arm, trying to escape from Takao's grasp. But when he couldn't quite muster up the energy to do so, he switched to his best soul-withering glare.

Takao Kazunari _looked_ at him.

And suddenly, Midorima was being dragged outside and into the onslaught of rain.

"What!" he spluttered indignantly.

"See, look what you did now, Midorima," Takao was saying, and for the love of god, Midorima wanted to punch his face through the ground right then and there. "We're getting wet."

"_You're_ getting wet," Midorima corrected, throwing his umbrella up over himself.

"Don't do that," Takao said. "Don't you see what I'm trying to do?"

Midorima glowered. "I'm not an idiot. Thinking that I am overworking myself, you are trying to get me to," he sniffed in a derogatory fashion, "stop and smell the roses."

Takao smiled and wiped his drenched hair out of his face. Midorima's eyes narrowed. That smile pissed him off. It was like the skin of the perfect peach, but when you bit into it, you found that every inch of it was rotten.

Takao was opening his idiotic mouth again. Midorima cut in.

"You have no right to say anything stupid with that mouth of yours after subjecting me to this horrible weather. First you waste my time and then you increase my likelihood of contracting an illness—"

"Well, none of this would have happened if you didn't shut yourself out from everyone!" Takao said, and finally that stupid smile of his was being wiped off his face. "All I'm really asking for is for you to stop blaming yourself—"

"Shut up," Midorima said, voice so cold that it seemed the temperature had dropped by several degrees. "You don't know anything about that."

"Yes, I do—"

Midorima cut him off. "And you're telling me that I am shutting people out? Takao, you haven't once called me the way you used to. If I were less elegant, I would tell you to fuck off. But I am not so crass. So, do not bother me again."

With his foot, he shoved Takao out of the space under his umbrella, into which Takao managed to worm his way. But as he tried to retract his foot, he was suddenly accosted by the strange sensation not too unlike being grabbed by an octopus.

Midorima blinked and looked down to see what was impeding his quick escape…

And saw a small boy with black hair latched onto his leg.

"Who…?"

With his face buried in Midorima's knee, neither he nor Takao could figure out who it was. Midorima could just _tell_ Takao was itching to tease him about some affair Midorima had _not_ had and shut him up with a glare.

But beyond that, Midorima couldn't do much. Children? How did one deal with children?

"Hey, little guy," Takao said, bending right over. "Are you lost?"

Finding Takao much more agreeable, the child unwound himself from Midorima's leg and latched onto Takao.

"Yeah, you know!" The child sounded much too excited to be lost. Midorima begrudgingly shuffled forward, holding his umbrella to shade all of them. The rain fell in rivers from the edges of the umbrella, like water from flower petals.

The child looked up at Takao, and Midorima heard from him the faintest of gasps. His headache was pounding, now, and his teapot was threatening to topple out of his rain-slicked hand.

The foreboding sensation from that morning was growing worse…

"We were on a field trip, and I had to tie my shoe, but you know, I'm bad at tying shoes, so it took me a long time. And when I was done, everybody had left. So now I'm lost. And daddy said to ask a nice man to help me if I ever get lost, and you…"

The boy turned and looked at Midorima.

The teapot shattered on the ground.

"Whoa!" Takao exclaimed. He swooped down and grabbed the boy. "You okay? Sorry, this guy is clumsy bumsy, so don't mind him, okay?"

The child tilted his head and looked at Midorima appraisingly with bright blue eyes.

"Okay."

Midorima's feet were rooted to the ground—_fear? Guilt?—_else, he might have actually turned and started walking away. He wanted the child to turn away—_don't look at me, not with those eyes, don't look—_he wanted to vanish; he wanted to _run_—

Because blue eyes like those weren't supposed to exist in this world anymore.

* * *

><p><em>About to leave, so short note: thanks for the support everyone! really appreciate it, and hope everything's going well for you. Someone asked if Kagami would make an appearance; and indeed he did, and will continue to do so. Trying to bring Momoi in somehow, but can never find a good opportunity. Hope you liked this chapter; let me know if there's anything you want to seehave any questions._


	5. the first step forward

**the first step forward**

**-1-**

**Tuesday**

**2:55 p.m.: not by choice**

He thought he was over it.

People die. Aomine understood that. Understood it too well, if you asked him. People die, and sometimes in the most horrible ways possible. Sometimes they die alone, and sometimes they die with people watching him.

And in the middle of winter, they had all seen him die…

Since then, it had been nearly five years. It was May, now; life was blooming all around him in dazzling colors. The wind still blew the same way; the sun still shone; and the skies of spring were just as blue and clear as they had been when they'd all been together.

Yes, Aomine Daiki had until now believed that he had moved on from Kuroko's death. Yet one look into blue eyes that should have been long gone grabbed him by the insides and shook him up and whispered in his ears that he had never moved on. That maybe he would never move on. If he had been of a bitter disposition, he might have said fate was mocking him by setting onto one of the liveliest faces he'd ever seen a pair of blue eyes that should have been dead. But he no longer believed in such things (after all, if fate really did exist, the generation of miracles should have continued on together, with its phantom sixth man).

One step…

… backwards…

Retreat into the secrecy of the shadows…

And all the thoughts he'd had during the weeks following Kuroko's death were pouring forth as if a dam had been blasted down in his mind.

_He should have spent more time with Kuroko when he could…_

_He should never have distanced himself in middle school…_

_He should have joked more, laughed more, supported him more…_

So many things he should have done, but could never do.

Such thoughts were running through Aomine's mind in the front seat of the patrol car as he waited for Officer Yu to come back from the convenience store.

It was a dreary spring day where even the blooming flowers looked defeated. Aomine wandered in his mind, not even realizing that he was walking further and further along a road he'd gated away.

And then came a knock…

"Hey! Officer! We've got a lost kid here and need some help…"

Aomine could have laughed when he got out of his car, but it would have been a bitter laugh that stung his throat like bile.

Of course it would happen like this.

If there were a fate, it would never condone them for the hurt they had wrought on Kuroko.

It would never leave them alone.

It was painful to smile down at the small boy with blue eyes, but he did it anyways, because that was his way of saying:

_I accept this punishment._

**-2-**

**12:30 p.m.: the one called Akashi**

"I'm sorry for keeping you for so long."

Akashi said this with a polite bow as the black-haired man stood from the couch and stretched.

"Not at all! Or, if I may say it, NP… _bro_."

Akashi returned the man's cautious glance with an amused expression. But, being Akashi, he made no sign of even considering answering Shiroko Toru's call to bro-ship. He excused himself to the restroom while Toru gathered up the papers strewn across the glass table, and when he returned, it was to a scent of fresh air and the sight of Toru's backside as the rest of him leaned out the window…

Akashi coughed quietly, and Toru jumped, hit his back on the top of the window, and would have fallen out of the sixteenth floor window had Akashi not grabbed him by the tie (which was conveniently hanging over his shoulder) and wrenched him back to safety.

"OH-mg, t-y, t-y," Toru said breathlessly, desperately clawing at the tie choking him. "You have my undying gratitude omfg."

The corner of Akashi's mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"This happens every time… I would think you would learn from it, Lawyer Shiroko," he said as if commenting on a particularly pleasant appetizer.

Finally loosening the tie, Toru gasped out, "It makes me feel youthful… what's that saying the young ones are always preaching… _yolo_?"

"Amusingly, I heard a spinoff on that saying a few days ago from a man who had gone bungee-jumping for the first time," Akashi said mildly. "Before jumping off the bridge, his guide gave him a small pep talk—words of encouragement, of course, and also to keep in mind one thing—_yodo._"

"Yodo?" Toru asked curiously.

Akashi smiled at him.

"You only die once."

Toru shivered at the gleam of Akashi's teeth and involuntarily loosened his tie even further.

"Say not such unyouthful words," he muttered.

Akashi might have chuckled had the day not been so exhausting.

"Are you sure I cannot offer you anything to eat? It is past lunch time."

Toru held up a hand and waved the offer away.

"Nay, generous youth. Recently, my stomach's been all out of sorts, so I don't eat at regular times."

"I remember you saying something like that the last time we met," Akashi said. "Have you not seen a doctor? Or consulted your wife?"

"The wife is busy enough as it is," Toru said. "And I'm still in my thirties. It's probably just stress or something of the like… People my age are usually hitting their mid-life crises… oh, lord, even the thought of it…"

Toru trailed off into an uncharacteristic mopey grumble as he snapped his suitcase shut. Akashi merely observed him with a light curve to his lips.

Toru was one of the few that Akashi allowed in his makeshift flat. In fact, he was one of the few whose presence Akashi did not simply tolerate, but actually enjoyed.

Shiroko Toru was a strange being with two sides to him—almost like Akashi, but on a different, more tempered level. Instead of oscillating between cold and manipulative and charismatic and compassionate, Toru swung between a goofy character and a serious one. It made Akashi question his secretary's suggestion to hire the man as the company lawyer when he first met him—something along the lines of _What a youthful behind you have! You must teach me your ways! I, too, wish for such perkiness!_ was said—but Toru could turn serious at the snap of the fingers. It was unexpected—and Akashi liked that. Toru had a personality that made you think he knew how to live life to the fullest.

And maybe, on another level, that made Akashi jealous.

The others in the company always shot Toru denigrating looks. _Why is such an immature man serving our company? It really goes to show how incompetent Akashi really is. _

But Akashi chose him for his honesty above all else. Here was a man who exhibited no fear in throwing himself into the world as he was—no veil, no masks, no acts. People had gradually come to respect and accept him because he had proven himself to be far beyond merely competent. He always made sure that others, be it clients or friends, were walking along a safe path first. When it came down to the line, he was more serious than any other, kinder than any other, more _compassionate_ than any other.

So compassionate that it could almost make a person hate him.

"Did you not find a suitable apartment yet?" Toru said.

"What do you mean?"

"This place carries the air of being lived in," Toru said. "If you know what I mean. It's not good to live with your work all the time. You need to take a break and get some fresh air, or it'll be the death of you."

"I will be fine," Akashi said quietly.

"Work is indeed a productive way with which to distract yourself," Toru said lightly. "But it also has been the death of many men and women." Toru struck what he probably thought was a gangster pose. "Home dawg, you still young."

The blank look Akashi was giving him made Toru assume a normal position and clear his throat.

"Perhaps I went a little too far with that one. Alas, I still have much to learn… Although Teppei told me it was the most youthful of phrases…"

That named sounded familiar.

"Teppei?" Akashi asked.

Toru twirled a pen in his fingers. "An old client of mine. He's one of my most precious educators on today's hip and modern ways."

Akashi wasn't sure he wanted to know precisely what that meant.

"But, it is that time of our meeting again!" Toru said. "And I must invite you to have dinner with us tonight."

"Which, as always, I will decline," Akashi said, a smile tugging at his lips as Toru struck one of his _Alas!_ poses.

"FML, you always reject my advances."

Toru eyed Akashi in an evaluative way not many people dared do in his face.

His voice was softer, now, and a softness was in his eyes. "Eating alone is not good for you either.

"Fear not, Toru! Be strong! One day, this young man will capitulate and Tetsuya will have a new friend!"

Akashi almost hesitated for a split second.

"How is… your son?"

"Tetsuya? He's beautiful. Though, Akashi," Toru said, turning a shrewd eye on the other man, "Even while you're always asking about him, you continuously refuse my invitations to see him."

"I prefer to keep a strictly business relationship."

"Asking after my son is not considered business," Toru said gently. Like a magician might pull a rabbit from a hat, Toru produced a photograph from thin air.

"For you, lovely rose blossom," Toru said, oblivious to—or choosing to ignore—the near imperceptible blanching of Akashi's expression. "He awaits your arrival. Like a prince on a white steed, you will ride in and attempt to take my beautiful child away from me—but, alas! A jealous father am I. You will not win my son's hand in marriage so easily…"

"Shiroko…"

"I may have had too much coffee this morning," Toru admitted unapologetically. His phone rang and he excused himself. Akashi enjoyed a few seconds of peace, during which he slipped the photograph into a drawer without looking at it. Toru returned, saying that he had another client calling after him, and left with a last, _My house! 6 p.m.! Don't come later, because Tetsuya has to get his beauty sleep!_

Akashi closed his eyes and snorted softly through his nose, because he knew that no matter how tempted he was to have dinner with a man so much like the father he imagined, he would never fall. No matter the stories he heard of Shiroko Toru's son, he would not submit to curiosity…

… he found the photo Toru left for him in his hand…

…and quietly put it back away…

Such was how the one called Akashi Seijuuro lived his days. Just like the rest of them: Believing he'd already taken so many steps forward when, in reality, he was walking in circles.

**-3-**

**2:33 p.m.: take my hand**

"So do you have your parents' numbers or anything like that? Or maybe we should go find a police officer…"

While Midorima was feeling like an orangutan accosted with a particularly prickly cactus, Takao was easily taking everything into stride. Had Midorima been of a completely different personality, he might have envied the man—but all that he felt was an immense desire to seize a flowerpot and crack it over Takao's skull.

"I'll leave this to you…" Midorima muttered, planning his escape. But Takao grabbed him by the knee and dragged him back.

Midorima decided that a piano instead of a flowerpot might be a better choice.

"Whoa, whoa, this kid came to you first, not me! Isn't that right?" Takao said, poking the kid in the cheek. The kid giggled. Midorima faintly felt like vomiting.

"But maybe he's got something wrong in the head… he thinks Midorima is friendly and isn't scared at all at the prospect of being lost…" Takao said under his breath. "Ah, there's a police car. Let's try over there, shall we?"

He held out a hand, and the boy grabbed it.

And then, without skipping a beat, the child turned to Midorima and reached out his free hand.

Midorima stared at it mutely. He could feel Takao staring at him with worry—_why was he worrying about someone like him—_, the fool.

"Take my hand!"

Midorima forced himself to breathe through his nose. In, out, methodically, measured, calculated.

"Ahh, Midorima here is deathly afraid of small children like you—"

"I am _not_," Midorima couldn't help but snap at the jab at his pride.

"So just hold hands with big ol' Takao here. Come on, Midorima, don't be a wet mop," Takao said. "You wouldn't leave a kid out in the rain, would you?"

_But all he heard was an accusatory, You wouldn't leave Kuroko out in the rain, would you?_

Midorima's teeth ground in response to an emotion with which he was unfamiliar. Takao smiled knowingly at him—_damn him—_and walked over to the police car.

Midorima followed along. But it was only to keep the child dry, nothing more.

Takao knocked three times on the window.

"Hey! Officer! We've got a lost kid here and need a little help…"

As if someone was fumbling in surprise, there was a moment's pause before the window made an awful sound like a dying cow. The door popped open, and immediately, the rain drenched the head that poked out.

"Oh!" Takao exclaimed.

"What?"

A very familiar face that had been worn down by the years looked at the mismatched group in surprise.

Dark navy eyes landed on the small child who was now linking Takao and Midorima by the hands, and Midorima could see Aomine Daiki's mouth move to shape the words _more trouble…_

"Aomine, right? Wow, you're a police officer already? How'd that happen?"

"Stuff happened," Aomine muttered, reaching into the car to grab an umbrella of his own. "What's going on here? Why do you have Tet—"

His eyes flickered to Midorima and just as quickly back to the boy.

"—the kid with you?"

"Potato-man!" the boy shrieked, detaching himself from Midorima and Takao and latching onto Aomine's leg.

"I'm gonna tell you if you're trying to kidnap this kid, you better stop right now, because otherwise you are going to have a monster that poops out rainbows and stars coming after you with all the power of youth."

Takao blinked.

"What?"

"Exactly."

"That's my daddy!" the kid said with all the pride of a child.

Aomine shrugged at them as if to say _I have no explanation for anything._

"So, what happened to you?" Aomine said.

"Got lost," the kid said. "See, we were on a field trip, and I had to tie my shoe but I'm not good at tying shoes so I took a long time and when I was done everybody was gone so I wandered around until I found a nice-looking person because Daddy always said to look for nice people if I ever got lost so I found him," the kid poked his finger at MIdorima, and Aomine guffawed, "and his friend found you and now I think I can go home now because Potato-man is a really nice person and Daddy wants you to have dinner."

"Number one, you need to work on your identifying-nice-people skills," Aomine said. "That guy over there is the worst scum on the planet."

Midorima bristled. But before he could continue, the kid stomped his foot, an impossibly puffy pout on his face.

"No! Totem pole man is a nice person! So is the other man! They're all nice people! You're not nice because you called him a bad name!"

And in this way, Midorima found the kid glued octopus-fashion to his leg again.

Aomine was dying from keeping his laughter in, Midorima knew it. So was Takao.

"But why totem pole!?" The words burst out of him before he realized it.

The kid stared at him like he was stupid.

"Because you're so stiff. And green. Like a mossy totem pole."

The _DUH_ was just begging to roll off the child's tongue, but out of courtesy, it was held back.

"Well, let's get you home," Aomine said. "I'll call your dad up, and I volunteer… Totem pole man… and his friend to keep you company until your dad can come and pick you up.

"No! You stay, too!"

"But I…"

"No!"

Around this time, not too far away, Kagami Taiga was paying for Shiroko Toru's lunch. Before Toru could whisk him away, his phone rang.

"Ah! A delightful surprise!" Toru roared, shooting his phone-holding hand up to the sky like a rocket. "The tan youth calls me, finally! I have been sending him texts every day, but he never replies. Hello, hello!"

This was it! Kagami's opportunity to escape! He made to dash for the door, but a shriek rivaling that of a distressed donkey caused him to trip over his tied shoelaces. How could he trip over tied shoelaces?!

"How could I trip over tied shoelaces?!" Kagami cried to himself as he watched the scenery whizz past and the raindrops whip off the windows. Toru was going well beyond the speed limit, now, and if he couldn't care that he was driving 70 miles in a 45 miles-per-hour zone, he certainly wouldn't care that Kagami was missing his afternoon shift at work.

Not that Kagami cared, really, either. He texted his boss with a half-assed excuse that an emergency had arose (it went something like _Was kidnapped. In shock. Will return to work tomorrow.),_ and stared mournfully out the window, wondering just what he had gotten himself into.

Or rather, what Toru had just gotten him into, since Kagami had certainly not landed himself into this predicament.

But by the time Toru was slamming on the brakes, Kagami was wondering whether there was some divine figure he'd never really bothered to believe in pulling the strings. He felt his mouth run dry just by looking at the joke of a coincidence before him. Aomine was standing just beside some ridiculously green umbrella belonging to another person whose face Kagami couldn't see. As Toru flew out the car and flung himself around his son, Kagami slowly got out the car and shut the door behind him.

Aomine had been smiling before (a half-assed smile, but a smile nonetheless), but as his eyes met Kagami's the smile was washed off by the rain.

"Watch out for the teapot," Aomine muttered, not a single trace of mirth left on his face.

The mess of broken china looked up at Kagami forlornly, and suddenly, Kagami did not want to look up and under that umbrella.

"What a wonderful couple you are!" Toru was praising the two under the green umbrella. "What valiant youths there are today in Japan's society! Why, I must…"

The rest was lost to Kagami when he finally looked up and met the unreadable green gaze.

"Some coincidence, huh?" Aomine said, breaking into a hopeless grin.

Someone was tugging on Kagami's pants, and there was only one person who could do that. Despite himself, he looked down.

"Scissor-brow man, hi!"

And he started wondering all over again:

Just what had he been dragged into?

* * *

><p><em>They are beginning to gather! Who? Japan's valiant youths, of course... With so many people needing to meet, it's been going rather slowly... but I'm hoping that once they all DO actually start getting together, things will speed up.<em>

_Thanks for the support, as always! If I didn't get to your review, I'm sorry! I will do better next time._


	6. house of the sun

**House of the Sun**

**-1-**

**3:11 p.m.: sidekick**

Toru's car was to small for all of them, but luckily—_or unluckily—_Officer Yu returned soon enough and was more than happy to give his usually friendless apprentice a ride to eat dinner with friends. Takao, Midorima, and Aomine set off together in one car, leaving Kagami to his miserable self in a car containing one Shiroko Toru and one Shiroko Tetsuya who were singing equally horribly to the songs on the radio.

Toru stopped by a grocery store to pick up a salad, which had them arriving ten minutes after the first group. As Toru pulled up into the driveway, a strange chill gripped Aomine's gut and glued him to the seat. As much as he wasn't ready to see Shiroko Tetsuya again, he was even more perturbed by the idea of meeting those who he had not seen in such a long time. It was like going back in time, except this time there was no Kuroko around…

While the house was average, the land plot was not. It seemed as if Toru had bought out an addition five plots of land —basically a forest in the backyard, a pool to the side, a miniature basketball court on the other side of the house. At this Kagami could not help but cast a glance at the small boy tugging on his father's pants. All he could see was blue eyes on the basketball court, streaking past him at the speed of light…

Tetsuya bounced over to Kagami and grabbed his hand. Kagami felt like he'd been plunged into a pool of ice. He wondered if suicide by drowning in the pool of a man he'd just met would be unacceptable. Probably.

The boy's hand was sticky, like he'd been sucking on it. The boy was grinning at him—_no, don't smile at me, I don't deserve it_—with a smile of gums and missing teeth and with eyes of blue.

"Scissor-brow man looks nervous, so I'll help you out!"

The boy tugged on Kagami's hand and, already weak at the knees, Kagami kneeled down.

"Daddy said not to bring it to school, but I did anyways," the boy said, plunging his hands into his backpack. After a miniature battle with the stubborn bag, he pulled out a blanket of the deepest red. "See?"

He trundled close and before Kagami could put up a weak protest, the boy clumsily tied the red blanket around Kagami's neck. When he hopped back, he grinned and said, "See? Now you're a superhero, and I'm your sidekick. And daddy's a—a civil—civily—civil-ant—Daddy, is that the word?"

"Civilian?"

"Yah!" the boy said, and he jumped back into his explanation without another hitch. "You're a superhero, and I'm your sidekick and daddy's a civilian who needs to go home."

"Daddy can be a superhero, too," Toru said wheedingly.

"No he can't," Tetsuya shut him down. Toru wept. Tetsuya, as if this were a daily occurrence, turned back to Kagami. "I'm your sidekick, but I'm hurt, so I can only help you, so you gotta do all the work. Daddy's house is there, so you gotta lead the way! If you do this, you'll become the number one superhero in Japan!" The boy held out his chubby hand. "Lead us?"

I'm your sidekick! (_I am a supporting actor, a shadow.)_

I can only help you._ (It will make the white of the light stand out.)_

You'll become the number one in Japan! _(I will make you, the light, the number one in Japan.)_

And while the boy, Tetsuya, beamed at him with a smile that would make sunflowers turn, Kagami looked at him with misty eyes. His voice betrayed him, cracking once as he said in a gruff voice:

"Nice words there. I'll do my best."

Kagami grabbed Tetsuya's outstretched hand and stood. That hand was so small, so warm, so full of life. And though Kagami was supposed to be the superhero and Tetsuya the sidekick, for all he knew it felt like Tetsuya was leading the way to the navy blue door that swung open on their arrival.

"You did it!" Tetsuya cheered. "Hi, mom!"

Kagami finally, finally smiled.

"We did it," he whispered.

**-2-**

**5:34 p.m.: a cold dinner**

"I'm guessing you all know each other?" Toru commented as the wife led Tetsuya into a high chair. "Since you're talking and all."

Aomine shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, yeah… somehow."

"Small world… or maybe it's because of the technology of today? Connecting all the youths through the power of instant messaging and media… I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous… If I, too, could be connected like that…"

Toru pulled out his phone, a suspicious air rising about him as he gazed longingly at the three of them.

"Not at the dinner table, Toru," Rin said, swiping the phone—_what an angel—_and unwittingly saving Kagami and Aomine a horrible fate of being messaged things like _omg how r u_ and _look my son isn't he soooooooooooooooooooo cute_ hourly. "Don't teach Tetsuya bad manners."

"I don't have bad manners!" Tetsuya chirped, banging his spoon on the table. "Daddy's a bad man!"

"Daddy's a bad man!" Toru wept.

Kagami swore that the way the man instantaneously burst into tears was only possible with demonic powers and promised himself to stay far, far away from him.

As long as Kagami didn't look at the two people sitting beside him, he could say that dinner wasn't a complete fiasco. Tetsuya turned out to be horrible with a spoon, fork, or any kind of utensil and managed to fling a scoop of potatoes straight into Aomine's face. Kagami choked on his food while Aomine expressionlessly wiped the potatoes off his face. If Tetsuya had been Kuroko, Aomine no doubt would be digging his knuckles into his head right now—

Kagami coughed such that all the food dislodged itself from his throat and catapulted into Toru's plate, who exclaimed with a "WTF."

Bad, bad, bad, Kagami growled at himself. It was enough that the two boys shared the same names and eyes; they didn't need Kagami to go and associate them with each other…

Meanwhile, Tetsuya thought this was a mighty fun game and was trying with all his might to fling the food in his mouth into his father's plate. Toru looked torn between telling Tetsuya to _stop harassing daddy _and cheering _you can do it_! Luckily for him, the wife stuffed a ball of rice into Tetsuya's mouth and ordered him to chew while keeping his mouth closed.

"So Shintarou wants to be a doctor, I hear?" Rin said during an interlude between the chaos. "What made you decide that?"

Takao choked on his food and turned pale (though whether that was because he was gagging or because he was surprised was to be determined). Midorima, who hadn't been eating much anyways, poked at his food.

"A friend… helped me decide."

"A friend… that's always a good thing to hear," Rin said. Her eyes traveled along the suddenly somber group. "I guess it was because of what happened to that friend rather than what that friend helped you do?"

Aomine looked troubled. "How did you…?"

Rin made a circle around her face with her finger. "Your expressions. It doesn't take a genius to guess."

"But you are a genius, honey," Toru cooed. Aomien could have vomited. Rin could have, too, judging by the look on her face.

"I thought I beat that out of you years ago," Rin said, flinging a napkin into Toru's face.

"Youth can never be defeated."

"Gross," Takao said, pulling a face at the mushiness transpiring at the dinner table. He turned to Tetsuya and poked his cheeks, eliciting a gurgle from the boy. "Do they always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Never mind," Takao chuckled, ruffling Tetsuya's hair. "Eat up."

Tetsuya grinned at him with a mouth full of food.

Rin shooed them from the kitchen when their plates were clean, and they found themselves in a very well-furnished living room. Toru was playing transformers with Tetsuya in a corner.

Midorima cleared his throat and announced that he must go.

Immediately, Tetsuya assumed the position of a tumorous growth on his leg.

"Totem pole wants to leave?" he said, on the verge of tears. "Totem pole doesn't like me? Is that why he wants to leave? Like Goldilocks? I don't think Goldilocks liked me very much," Tetsuya said, drooping. Midorima blinked furiously.

"No, no, Totem pole here likes you very much, he's just too shy to say it," Takao said, coming to the rescue. He scooped Tetsuya up and whirled him in the air.

"That reminds me…" Toru said. "Do you, Sir Takao and Sir Midorima, also know of the youth named Kise Ryouta?"

It was Midorima's turn to choke, and Kagami guessed that it had been a while since Midorima had heard that name.

"Uh… yeah, I think so?" Takao said. "The blond guy, right? What about him? I haven't seen him around in magazines lately."

Toru nodded his head thoughtfully and trailed his gaze over Aomine. He slid down imperceptibly in his seat as if that would deter Toru.

But of course it didn't. Nothing did.

"Have you spoken with him since then? With such a reunion amongst peers, it is a shame that he could not be here," Toru said. "Such a splendid occasion would be only augmented with the arrival of another friend."

Aomine muttered something about _not a friend_.

"I called him by accident," he mumbled.

"And?"

Aomine groaned as if having this conversation was the last thing he wanted to do.

"We talked."

"Wait, is there something wrong with Kise?" Kagami asked, looking from Toru to Aomine.

Aomine grumbled something unintelligibly before sighing.

"Basically, I told him to get his life together and he told me to fuck—"

"WHAT YOU SAY?!" Toru roared before Aomine could finish what he was saying.

"I-I mean to go away!" Aomine amended hastily before Toru could send himself into a tizzy. Toru stared at him, bug-eyed, as he hugged his child manically. "He told me to go away."

"What's happening with Kise?" Kagami said. "I thought you and he were on pretty good terms."

"Yeah, I thought he was the bubbly happy guy who liked to butt into people's lives too much," Takao offered. "How could he tell you to go away so rudely?"

Aomine sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Man, you guys are such a pain. Why can't you be like Midorima and be as silent as a totem pole?"

Midorima sent him a look that would have wilted a tree.

"That kid is worrisome," Toru said. "TBH, if he were my son, I would lock him up in the house and hand-feed him every day until I was sure he was better. But then again, if he were my son and had ended up like that under my watch, I'd be committing seppuku right now…" Toru grabbed Tetsuya and stroked his hair lovingly, and Kagami was seized by the urge to barf yet again. "Don't worry, Tetsuya, Daddy will never let you get hurt."

Tetsuya floundered in Toru's arms and bopped him on the head until he was released.

"Wait, wait," Kagami said, holding up his hands. "How do you guys know each other in the first place?"

Aomine shrugged and told him the story of Saturday night, or to be exact, very early Sunday, when he ran into Kise. Kagami listened quietly, eyes absentmindedly following Tetsuya, who had tied a blanket around his neck and was racing around the room. After Toru had served them both brunch, Kise abruptly left, much the same way as he had just done, and Aomine had tried to follow after him without much avail.

"And then I called him on accident that night," Aomine said. "And I tried to tell him he should get his things together and that I could try to help him. But all he said was that he didn't need my help and to leave him alone."

"That's… _That_ Kise Ryouta ended up like that?" Takao murmured. "Wow, that's… worse than Midorima…"

"There is nothing wrong with me," Midorima said stiffly.

Rin came to take Tetsuya away somewhere upstairs. They heard Testuya wail—_I DON'T WANNA TAKE A BATH!—_in the silence.

"I guess… if he doesn't want to be helped, then… we can't help him…" Kagami mumbled. Toru started, looking shocked.

"What?" Toru said.

"What?" Kagami echoed.

"I don't know what kind of relationship you guys have," Toru said. "And it's pure coincidence that I pulled together a group of boys who seem to know each other from the past. But whatever beef you have with each other is clearly a sign that at one point, all of you were close."

Kagami squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, that—"

Toru held up a finger, effectively silencing him. "I'm going to assume that all of you were friends. Don't give me that face. I know how bitter the rivalry of youths can be. But regardless of issues, friends stick up for each other and have each others' backs. And I'm asking you to do that right now."

"If you're asking us to help him," Kagami said slowly, "I don't think we can. Like I said—"

"Can or won't?" Toru pressed. Kagami looked away shiftily.

"It's not like… we're especially close. We weren't ever, really," Kagami said. In fact, between him and the Generation of Miracles, the only time they had ever even remotely acted as close as friends would was that day—that grey day when Kuroko died. He shuddered at the thought of it and closed his eyes tight. He could almost hear the way they had all laughed in the icy wonderland—the way even Akashi was smiling, the way Midorima turned away to hide his expression, the way Kise laughed so brightly it was like the sun bursting through the clouds.

"Listen, old man," Aomine sighed, ignoring the way Toru looked like an indignant peacock. "I _tried_ talking to Kise yesterday. "I thought I could help him, maybe. I told him what he was doing was going to mess him up, and I could tell he knew, too. I told him he wasn't going to keep on doing those things anymore, but he just walked away. But the one thing I figured out about him was that he _can't_ stop."

"What happened to the youth of yesterday? That's not what you were saying when you went to wake him up. If I recall correctly, you were scolding him with the fire only youths carry in their voices."

"He doesn't want to be helped. He thinks what he's doing is—is some fucked up way to punish himself. And in my experience… and like Kagami said: If you don't want to be helped, there's nothing that can help you."

The rather hollow note Aomine's voice had adopted struck a chord with Kagami. Toru eyed him rather appraisingly.

"Well, I am, regrettably, older than you and also, thankfully, a little wiser than the average youth of today," Toru said. "And sometimes you don't know you want to be helped until someone tells you."

Aomine bristled. "Old man, you don't know Kise."

"Then tell me about him," Toru challenged, his chin rising, and all the mischief Tetsuya's face carried manifested in Toru's. Aomine seemed to deflate.

"Well that would… that's something…" his mumble trailed off unintelligibly. Toru waited. Kagami's eyes dropped to the floor, and he half-wished he wasn't there because he knew exactly what Aomine was about to say.

With a frustrated gargle, Aomine tried again. "Look, your son… he's… he's a bit like… Officer Yu told you about—that day—your son is similar in a few aspects to…"

He struggled with the name. Kagami steeled himself and did it for him with the flattest voice he could muster.

"Our old teammate, Kuroko Tetsuya."

It was like a hand had ghosted over his heart; he felt so icy and stiff that he might well be a corpse. He hadn't said that name in almost five years, and hearing it hang in the air was like a—

_—punch to the gut. Kagami stumbled as if he had been actually hit, but all the physical pain in the world could not be compared to what he felt then. Because the pain he was feeling was in a different dimension, completely disconnected from the physical world. And there was no escape. No painkiller, no anesthesia. He could ask Aomine, who was grasping the wall for support, to knock him out, but when he woke up, the pain would still be there. He could ask Akashi, whose face was whiter than milk, to gouge his eyes out in hopes that physical pain would override emotional, but when he healed, the pain would reappear. That sickening hole in his heart that no amount of stitches would close had to be an illusion. This had to be a dream. These white walls were constricting him, he had to get out, out_, out—

_"You're a policeman, right? Your job is to save people! So why didn't you save him?!"_

_The man raised his hands, as if trying to put a barrier between himself and Aomine's grief-ridden rage. "Calm down, please."_

_Kagami's fists clenched. What a joke—what a joke—telling Aomine to calm down when Kuroko was dead. Telling him to calm down when Kuroko should have been saved! Telling him to calm down when—_

_"It's your job!" Kagami snarled._

_Someone wrenched Kagami from his spot. Furious, he whirled around, snarling. Akashi set his gaze on Kagami with eyes that should have belonged to a man in his twenties._

_"Kagami Taiga, that is enough," he said quietly._

_"Don't tell me what's enough, Akashi—"_

_But Akashi was already turning away, and suddenly, all Kagami could see was _Kuroko_ turning away from him, leaving for _good_—_

_"Officer Yu, was it? Could you give us a few moments?" Akashi was saying. Kagami grabbed his shoulder, and, startled, Akashi almost lost his balance. Realizing his mistake, Kagami fumbled for words._

_"You—I—"_

_Despair crossed Akashi's eyes as fleetingly as a running deer, but just as quickly, it was gone._

_"I…" Akashi said very quietly. "I am not Tetsuya."_

_And that's when Kagami started to run. A coward, he ran from the inevitable truth that was on the other side of the wall—Kuroko's body—_

"Point is," he heard Aomine saying, "Kise wouldn't be caught dead doing those things in front of—yeah. I asked Kise if he thought he needed help after he saw your kid. He said no. If your kid couldn't show him that he needed help, then… Kise's not going to change."

Toru was quiet for a while.

"Officer Yu and I have been friends for a good while," he said eventually. Aomine's expression contorted, torn between angry and confused at the way Toru had changed the topic. "We went to the same university—I was practicing law, and he was attending school so that he could graduate from the police academy more quickly. We didn't know each other back then, but once I got my degree, I was landed with a case regarding a murder to which he was witness. Since then, we've had many conversations and many of those talks revolve around his work.

"It was the day after a great snowstorm when he knocked on my door—that door," Toru said, pointing to the front entrance. "He walked in completely soaked and freezing, no umbrella—just his uniform and his cap. He was playing with it in that way he does when there's something on his mind. And then he asked me, 'What is my job, really?'

"It turns out that day he was unable to save a boy whose name was Kuroko Tetsuya. He had to inform the boy's parents and his friends, who were waiting in the hospital for news. And he said to me, 'Two of those kids were so angry they didn't even realize they were crying… and they were asking me questions that, for the life of me, I couldn't answer.'" Toru first looked Aomine in the eye and then Kagami, and then Midorima, who was staring into the distance as if he could remember too well what had been said that day.

"I think you remember what you said to him."

Though Aomine clearly knew, judging from his expression, Toru went ahead and said it anyways.

"'You're a policeman. Your job is to save people. So why didn't you save him?'"

Aomine turned his face away, expression contorted. "Just—shut up—"

"Aomine, let us hypothesize that we are a year into the future. Kise has died due to drug overdose, alcohol poisoning, suicide, what have you. Let me say these words to you," Toru continued quietly but firmly. Kagami wanted him to stop. Even Takao could tell this was too much. He didn't have to say what was coming next—

"You're a policeman, Aomine. Your job is to save people. One year ago, you had the chance to save the boy called Kise Ryouta."

Aomine's face was screwed up, like he was trying hard not to listen, but every word was already in his head, screaming at him.

_"So why didn't you save him?"_

"That's enough," Kagami said roughly. "You didn't have to say that."

"Make it so that I won't have to say that. So that _nobody _will have to say that," Toru said. "Even if you weren't a policeman, Aomine… as a friend, don't you think you should help him? You, too, Kagami. Are you going to give up just because you're afraid of what's going to happen? Are you scared that even though you help, Kise will end up, one way or another, dead? Inaction can be a crime, too."

"I know, I _know_!" Aomine snapped. "Don't treat us like children. 'You can't change things if you don't do anything, but you can change something if you take action.' I know already. I get it. So, just—stop."

Toru shrugged. "Enough old man talk. I feel grey hairs sprouting already. Tetsuya! Daddy's coming to give you a goodnight kiss! I'm OMW!"

As Toru practically skipped upstairs, Kagami let out another breath. Aomine was quiet, looking conflicted.

Takao studied the three of them with sharp eyes and tilted his head.

"I know…" he said tentatively, watching them flinch. "And it's not really my place to say it either, since I…" He glanced at Midorima, who looked determinedly away. "I wasn't trying my best either until now. But from what I know of Kuroko Tetsuya, he doesn't seem like the type to abandon his friends, you know? And if he saw you now, I'd say he'd be pretty disappointed in you all."

"I know," Aomine groaned. "But it's just that… if I—we—try to help Kise, then it'll be like facing his death all over again… because… I don't know about the rest of you, but I know that Kise and I haven't gotten over it. And that's Kise's problem. That's what I—we—have to work with. And, as much as I hate it… that old man is right. I'm afraid of what's going to happen. I'm afraid of what I'm going to feel. And I'm afraid that Kise's gonna just fuck himself over despite whatever I do."

Midorima huffed. Aomine turned to glare at him, challenging him.

"What? You have something to say? Like I'm a coward or something?"

Midorima returned with an unreadable stare.

"No. It's just that I've realized something."

He looked at them all with the gaze of a dead fish.

"We're just all afraid of the guilt we'll feel moving on without Kuroko."

He stood up.

"I have had enough for one night. Takao."

He blinked at himself. Takao grinned at the way he called him as he used to do in high school and jumped to his feet.

"Yes, sir! At your service, whether it be pulling rickshaws or finding you a pink tutu!"

Midorima grumbled and left to find Toru and Rin to say his goodbyes. One by one, they left.

Aomine was the last one to walk out the door. He found himself standing on the street, just far enough to see the house in its entirety. And as the stars rose to claim the sky, he watched as, one by one, the lights went out in that house.

That house of the sun. He didn't know why that description arose in his mind, but it felt right.

"The house of the sun," he said, trying it out on his tongue. He glanced around furtively, feeling relieved upon affirming that he was alone.

"Not gonna get caught saying cheesy things like that…" he muttered. He set off on his way to the bus stop, shaking his head at himself.

Five years of spring warmth and sun hadn't been enough to thaw the deep freeze of winter for them. But somehow, in the past few days, it felt like a crack had finally appeared in the frozen waters of time.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry if this seems kind of choppy; am trying my best to update every weekweek and a half. Thank you for all the reviews!_

_Notes on commonly asked questions:_

_TORU & GUY SENSEI:_

_I wanted someone who would try to be his son's best friend and in a way that could only support Tetsuya. I based him a lot on Guy-who talks about youth-and my sister-who talks about staying youthful (she's several years older than I). I sort of took the more extreme sides of those two and meshed them together with the tone I used to adopt back in middle school on chat (LOL) and out came Toru-a spastic man who wants to be kind to everyone because 1) he wants everyone to experience YOUTHFUL POWER and 2) he'd want Tetsuya to be kind, too. _

_WILL TETSUYA INHERIT KUROKO'S MEMORIES?:_

_Short answer: No. _

_Long answer: No. Sorry if any of you were hopeful for that, but... I feel like Tetsuya would lose his individuality if I did something like that. I always like the idea of being free-and I feel that subjecting Tetsuya to Kuroko's memories would take away the freedom that would be his own life. Lol. He will (as evidenced in this chapter) say some things eerily similar, and later on (spoiler?!) adopt something of Kuroko's for some reason. Vague foreshadowing is vague. _

_Anyways, thanks again! :) Love reading you guys' thoughts & everything._


	7. the bird drops a seed

_A/N: paying attention to the times will help you understand the chapter a little better. Nothing too important, just things placed out of chronological order._

**the bird drops a seed**

**-1-**

**Friday**

**the bird listened**

Kuroko was _staring_ at him.

It wasn't one of those _I'm observing you_ looks or an _I'm waiting for you to be interesting_ stares; it was one of those _you're doing something, and I don't like it_ gazes that made Kise Ryouta want to sink into his seat and wither away.

"Hey, hey, Kurokocchi, I know I'm pretty, but…"

The only response he got was a flat blink and he mumbled ashamedly that he wasn't actually all that handsome and was sorry for trying to brag about something he didn't have. Kuroko huffed through his nose and pushed his vanilla milkshake across the table. Kise goggled at him. Kuroko was sharing his milkshake?!

Kise pinched himself.

Well, it hurt, so it couldn't be a dream. Warily, he took it, speculating that it might explode in his face or otherwise be filled with some nasty goop that would send him flying for a toilet. While Kuroko watched, he took a cautious sip—it tasted like sugary heaven.

"What's the special occasion?" he asked tentatively. Kuroko tilted his head. "I mean, you never share your milkshakes with anyone. So why…?"

Kuroko shrugged and smiled at him. Before Kise could start feeling spurned by Kuroko's recalcitrance, Kuroko rose from the table and made for the door.

"Hey!"

All he got was an enigmatic smile as Kuroko passed through the door. Kise ran after him, throwing a few bills on the table on his way out.

"Kurokocchi! Wait up! Where are you going?"

Kise didn't remember a hill such as this one that drew the breath from his chest like he was climbing a mountain in thin oxygen. But Kuroko kept moving further and further, and Kise, no matter how hard he pumped his legs, just could not catch up. Finally, the hill leveled out. Kuroko stood at one end of a stone pavilion, Kise at the other. They stared at each other before Kuroko walked to him and by the wrist took him to the edge of the pavilion.

He pointed far out across the horizon. Then he covered Kise's eyes and turned him around.

When Kise could see again, he saw the same landscape, only through a mirror. He stood in front of himself, Kuroko beside him with a sad curve to his lips, the city and its forest behind him.

"Kise-kun," Kuroko said, and something trembled in Kise's heart upon finally hearing Kuroko's voice. "You can't walk backwards forever."

An irresistible urge to hug some part of Kuroko seized Kise, but when he turned to grab him, Kuroko was no longer there. He turned back to the mirror, and there Kuroko stood, looking at him with eyes that matched the sky above.

"Kurokocchi!" Kise said, putting his hand against the mirror. "Kurokocchi, can't you come over back to this side?"

But Kuroko shook his head.

"You can't walk backwards forever," he repeated.

Kise closed his eyes, feeling tears slip out. If emptying his chest of all it held could stop the pain, he would do it.

_"__Can't I?"_

When he opened his eyes again, it was night.

Just for kicks, he pinched himself. It didn't hurt.

_Ah_, he thought. _This is reality. _

He reached for his phone. It was 11:46. There was a notification for two missed calls from days ago that he hadn't bothered to listen to because they were from someone he didn't have the intention of speaking with again.

Two missed calls and two voicemails.

Aomine Daiki.

Before Kise really realized what he was doing, he'd picked up his phone and dialed voicemail.

_"__Yo. Don't hang up. Yet. If you even bothered to listen to this. Which you probably didn't. I don't know. Yeah. So. Uh. Damn, why is this so difficult… Look, I know you and I didn't have the… greatest conversation last time I called you… but I called you on accident and didn't really know what to say. So I said stuff. And called you an idiot. I know, I know, I shouldn't have called you an idiot, but you are and—no, I take it back, don't hang up. Uh but—"_

Play the next message?

_"__Damn, I ran out of time. But hey, listen. And I mean listen because this is damn hard, and I never do things like this. But if you want to hang out sometime, then… hit me up. We can talk about whatever or nothing. Or if you feel up to it, the guy whose house you slept in last time wants to have dinner with you. I'd be there of course, so you don't have to worry about being stuck in the same house as a lunatic but. Yeah. Just. I'm sorry about last time. Uh. I guess it'd be nice if you called or something. Even to call me a bastard. Yeah. I don't know. This is making me feel weird. So, later."_

The phone dropped back to the bed as Kise flung his arm over his eyes even though it was already pitch black.

"Who do you think you are…" he muttered. "Just leave me alone."

Leave him alone like the rest of his team had when they realized he was beyond saving. Yes, like Moriyama, Hayakawa, and Kasamatsu had when, no matter how much time they spent with him or how much they tried to bring him back to their side of the mirror, they realized he just wouldn't budge. Leave him alone like his sisters had when they did all they could just to make sure he went to college.

Who did Aomine think he was to waltz into Kise's life so suddenly? Where had he been the past four years? What right did he have to try and make him change? Kise recalled their conversation with a bitter taste in his mouth.

_"__You're an idiot, Kise. What do you think you're doing? You think doing this would make anything better? Get it together already! You know that Tet—he wouldn't want you doing this."_

_"__Just fuck off."_

And really, that was how the conversation started and ended.

Kise didn't even know why he bothered to listen to Aomine's voicemails—_maybe it was because of what he'd dreamt, which was still etched into his mind like a fire brand—_though they were interesting to listen to. He'd never heard Aomine sound like that or even speak like that. It was certainly a different approach to 'fixing' Kise than he'd taken last time. Nevertheless, Kise didn't appreciate the effort. It was weak and pathetic, and it made him uncomfortable to hear Aomine acting that way—_the same way Aomine might feel seeing Kise act this way—_

Ah…

One day the dull roar in his mind would end.

_You can't walk backwards forever._

But what if he didn't want to turn around?

Because turning around would mean finally leaving Kuroko behind…

Just as Thursday rolled over the clock, a muffled knock resounded through his apartment.

**-2-**

**Thursday**

**3:00 p.m.: the bird whispered**

"I don't want to keep you long like last time, Lawyer Shiroko," Akashi said. He closed his files and held out his hand to his lawyer in a formal gesture. "Thank you for coming again so soon."

"Pls, dwbi," Toru said, waving Akashi's hand away and opting for an awkward attempt at a hug that failed at the raise-your-arms-awkwardly-in-an-unreciprocated-fashion stage. "Instead, dinner at my house—"

"My apologies," Akashi said graciously. "As always, I am—"

"Unable to accept. My son misses you," Toru sighed piteously.

"He's never met me."

Toru gave Akashi a look that read _can't you play along for once?_ Akashi lifted his lips in a slight smile and shook his head.

"By the way," Toru said on his way to the door. "I was wondering whether you knew a boy by the name of Kise Ryouta…"

Akashi, despite himself, blinked twice before regaining his composure. That was a name he had not heard in months, perhaps years. The last time he'd heard mention of that name was when he, by chance, flipped through a magazine while waiting for his haircutter. He remembered blinking in much the same stunned fashion upon reading that his former team member had been caught dead drunk at a club and thus fired from his modeling job.

Back then, he hadn't wondered how it had happened; being a person of connections himself, he understood that with fame came opportunities, whether they were actually tempting or not. Chance just offered Kise Ryouta an escape—and escape he did.

Perhaps he should have stopped it, Akashi mulled as he studied Toru's expression. But he had had his own business to deal with at that time—_an escape lent to him by chance_—and couldn't entirely bring himself to care…

But such things were of the past.

"I knew him once in middle school," Akashi said very mildly. He laid his hand on the doorknob, a motion he hoped would serve as a prompt for Toru's departure. "But we haven't kept in touch."

He didn't like divulging information to Toru, because the man, though he acted juvenile, had a mind that could rival Akashi's and could draw conclusions like no other. He smiled in response to Toru's quirky grin, which told him that Toru had just made a connection Akashi couldn't be sure he would be happy about.

"Have you kept in touch with anyone from your middle school days?"

"Not any in particular," Akashi said lightly.

"I see," Toru said, nodding appraisingly. "Well, the reason I bring this up is… I met a few boys about your age some days ago. They were… strangely intriguing."

"Did you?"

"They all had the same reaction towards my cute Tetsuya as you did the one time you saw him. Now, I know Tetsuya is a very special boy, but to garner such astonishment… I am led to the conclusion that you boys all know each other, or have known each other in the past."

Akashi said nothing.

"I know that it may be that it is none of my business," Toru said, "but people say 'a little bird told me' all the time regarding things they should not butt into, and I thought I would sing the tune of a little bird today."

With all the nonchalance in the world, Toru said, "The boy with the golden hair is going to kill himself."

And with a _do-with-that-as-you-will_ air about him, Toru swept out of the office.

With great care, Akashi closed the door without a sound.

"What a frustrating man," he said, straightening his tie. "If he intends to play the part of a singing bird, he may as well play the part well and say the entire thing."

**-3-**

**3:13 p.m.: the bird wept**

"Yo, friend. Would you like to see my beautiful son?!"

_"__I thought I told you not to call me on duty, Toru."_

"Aw, don't be like that, Yu," Toru said, laughing lightly. He swung his bag in the air like a child might, balancing on the side of the sidewalk precariously. "I was just missing you."

_"__I'll tell on you. I'll tell your son that his father's in love with another man." _

Toru only chuckled.

_"__But what's really on your mind?"_

Toru hummed a little.

"I was just thinking about Daiki and his friends," he said. "You said there were a number of them on that day? That they had been coming home from a reunion of some sort when it happened? And that they all claimed it was their fault."

_"__I told you that years ago. I'm surprised you remember."_

"How could I not?" Toru sang teasingly. "You were in such pain when you told me."

_"__You would have been, too._"

Officer Yu sighed on his end of the line.

_"__Death is indiscriminate, but not everybody sees it that way. Being assaulted by the feelings of injustice belonging to children was one of the worst experiences in my career. Don't make fun of me for that."_

"I know, I know," Toru said. "I'm just feeling a little down myself."

_"__And making me feel awful is making you feel better? Sadist."_

Toru laughed. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't help these boys; they're too proud to be helped."

_"__Helping? Don't tell me you're trying to butt into people's lives again."_

"It's what I do," Toru said. "Think of it as a pro-bono case for me."

_"__You have too many of those already. But you must be feeling really down, judging by the way your speech is lacking the usual idiotic phrases it's usually comprised of."_

Upon rounding the corner, Toru saw a small, deserted playground waiting for him with damp sand and dirty puddles. Though his shoes would get dirty, he walked across the sludge to the swing set and set down his briefcase. The chains supporting the seats creaked awfully, so much so that Officer Yu could hear them through the phone.

_"__Christ, are you torturing giraffes?"_

"No. I'm just at the swings."

_"__Oh."_

Toru smiled in the silence. He and Officer Yu had known each other for a long while, and learning each other's habits was inevitable. For instance, Officer Yu would often say, "Sounds like rain" during an oppressive situation. And Toru would visit the swings by himself whenever something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Hm, how should I put this," Toru said. His bottom was almost too big to fit in the seat, but somehow he made it, feeling his old hips creak in protest as they were stuffed into the tight squeeze.

"I've been drawing connections for the past few days, and there's just one missing link. Daiki said that my son reminded them all of their deceased friend, but to elicit such a profound effect… Yu, did you know? They all look like men walking to the gallows whenever they see my son.

"They're special kids, strangely. There's something in my gut that tells me they are more reliable than anyone I've met to this date—barring you, of course. But they're the sort of people I would like to rely on should anything happen to me."

_"__What do you mean? Age finally catching up to you? Hitting your midlife crisis?"_

"No!" Toru said valiantly. "Youth still lives within me, and will do so for a long time yet! Though it breaks my heart to think that Tetsuya might rely upon another for fatherly advice and affection, Rin and I are both busy and will only get busier deeper into our careers. You recall the feeling we had when we picked the number for our first lottery, right? Our guts were telling us that the most youthful number was 284059—"

_"__Yeah and so much for that, we won nothing—"_

"And similarly, my gut tells me that it would be alright to entrust my son to Daiki and his friends. But I'm not wrong this time! They act as pubescent youths do, and they are clumsy when it comes to caring for each other, but I think that with a push, they will be alright.

"But it doesn't seem like they can gain momentum just amongst themselves. They need an external initiator. And with that, the ball will begin rolling. I've tried to do that without interfering too much, because as I said, they are prideful. But there's one thing I want to know before then…"

_"__I know. You don't have to say it."_

Officer Yu sighed.

_"__I never told you his name, did I? Kuroko Tetsuya. That was their friend's name. But that's not it. His parents sent me a thank you gift after everything was settled. A note, a few photos, things like that. I think that'll answer your questions. Just wait till I get home."_

A few hours later, Toru received a text from Officer Yu containing a few attached image files. He opened them up on his laptop.

He spent a good amount of time just staring at them.

With a deep breath, he turned away.

"So that's how it is," he said. "That's how it is."

**-4-**

**5:25 p.m.: and the bird sang**

_Recipient: Akashi Seijuuro_

_Sender: Shiroko Toru_

_yoyoyoyoyo it was gu 2day. attached is da contact info of a information specialist i no. she can do anything & everything. even stalking. Don't hesitate~ ur heart will lead the way 2 YOUTH. and come home sometime. My home, I mean. You are always welcome here, Akashi. :D less than 3 u._

**-5-**

**Friday**

**6:54 p.m.: the bird watched**

"Daiki-chan!" Toru greeted as he swung open the door. There stood Aomine, looking much like a cat dragged in by the scruff of its neck, with Officer Yu's hand on his shoulder.

Officer Yu prodded him violently.

"Ow! Fine, hi! I'm here! Against my will!" Aomine grumbled. "I have homework to do, you old fart."

"It's a Friday," Officer Yu said, clapping his hand on Aomine's back. "And I brought you your bag. With your spare key."

"…So that's what you were doing when I thought you went to the bathroom constipated," Aomine mumbled. He figured getting worked up about how Officer Yu had, in essence, broken into his apartment would, at this point, just be a waste of energy. With a sigh, he took his bag and ruffled through it morosely. Officer Yu had been thorough in his looting. Every assignment he had due the next week was there.

Without a valid reason to leave, Aomine didn't know whether it was better or worse that he was alone_—because of course he had been stupid and naïve thinking that Kise would respond to his message—_at the dinner table. Just as he began poking at his peas, a small ball of warmth collided against his legs and clambered into his lap.

"Hey, what the—"

All Tetsuya did was look up at him with the goofiest smile on his face before turning back to his food to eat. At a loss for words, he looked to Toru for guidance—and was struck silent by the expression on the man's face.

Aomine had never spent much time with his family, but he got the feeling that that expression was one of a father watching his beloved children.

It made Aomine's stomach twist strangely—_I've never really been looked at that way—_and he looked down at his food before Toru met his eyes.

Dinner was good, although Toru claimed to have too much of a stomachache to eat too much. Aomine found himself for the first time in years leaving behind a clean plate—_when had he stopped finishing his food in the first place…?_

"Hey, you know," Tetsuya said after dinner. Aomine was sitting on the floor at a table in the living room, working on a few papers he didn't really have to start on so early.

"Huh," Aomine grunted. Tetsuya toddled up to him, red blanket tied around his shoulders, and without thinking, Aomine ruffled his hair.

"Where's Goldilocks?"

His hand stopped.

"Uh…"

"I thought maybe he didn't like me or mom or dad since he left right away," Tetsuya said, looking down. "Daddy said you've been trying to get him to come home."

"He said that?" Aomine groaned. It wasn't _completely _a lie given that Aomine had suggested Kise come here for dinner, but it wasn't anything to _bring up._ And now Aomine had to explain himself and make up a reason for why Kise probably wasn't going to come around ever again.

"Uh…" Aomine scratched the back of his head. "It's not that he doesn't like you…"

_Doesn't like you isn't the way to put it. It's more that he's afraid of you._

"…He just doesn't like me," Aomine said, deciding that there was enough truth to that statement. "And I guess I did try to… make up with him… but it didn't work out. So, I don't think he'll be coming around."

Tetsuya stuck his bottom lip out.

"Then you didn't try hard enough!"

"I-I did," Aomine protested. "I just… think it's time to give up."

"Giving up is no good! You know, the world would be taken over by villains if all the superheroes just gave up."

"Well, not everybody is a superhero…"

"No! Everybody is a superhero! Mommy's a superhero because she does everything in the world and still has time to play with me! My teacher's a superhero because when I fell down and scraped my knee last Friday she put a bandaid on it and made the ouchies go away!"

Tetsuya leaned in close confidentially and giggled nervously. "Don't tell daddy I said this, but he's a superhero, too. He's _my_ superhero. But that's a secret. I'm still gonna call daddy a civilian, because it's my dream to become _his_ superhero one day!"

Tetsuya broke out into a laughing fit as if that was the most hilarious thing in the world. Aomine sighed.

"Look, kid, when you grow up, you'll realize that there are some things that you just can't do. And you'll understand. Not everyone is a superhero, and even superheroes can't be superheroes all the time."

Tetsuya bit Aomine's hand.

Aomine yelled.

"What the—!"

"Everyone's a superhero," he said obstinately with a pout. "You just have to believe. See!"

Tetsuya clambered into Aomine's lap and slapped his forehead.

"Until I become a superhero, too, I'm just gonna be a superhero's sidekick. Hehe," Tetsuya giggled. "And the sidekick's job is to help out a superhero when the superhero doesn't feel like a superhero anymore. And I'm your sidekick. So, see? You ARE a superhero! YOU ARE A SUPERHERO!" Tetsuya yelled into Aomine's ear.

"God, kid!" Aomine yelped, clutching his ears. "I'm right next to you!"

"You're not listening!" Tetsuya said. "I _said_ you're a superhero!"

Aomine grumbled something again, but Tetsuya clapped his hands over Aomine's mouth. Aomine stared at Tetsuya lividly, but the boy just giggled. A streak of red consumed Aomine's vision for a split second; confused, he blinked before he realized that Tetsuya had taken the red blanket formerly tied around his tiny shoulders and had flung it over his head. Aomine pushed the fabric out of his face and was assaulted with the full power of Tetsuya's blinding grin.

"Now you even have the cape. You don't believe you're a superhero. But _I _believe in you," Tetsuya said. He bopped Aomine on the nose. "So believe in me! And that way, you'll believe that I believe that you… wait…"

Tetsuya tilted his head, looking bamboozled.

"I'll believe… no… You believe? Uhhhh…"

Aomine couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. It shocked him as much as it shocked Tetsuya, who looked like the sun had finally come out after a year of darkness. Aomine was suddenly struck by guily; he realized that ever since setting foot into this house, he hadn't smiled once—not that he was one for smiling in the first place—in front of the kid. He didn't know whether Tetsuya had noticed this, but maybe he had—blue eyes like those had a knack for observing the smallest details…

"You make no sense, kid," Aomine laughed. Tetsuya beamed up at him and hugged him tight around the middle.

"Alright, I get it," Aomine said. He scooped Tetsuya up into the air and twirled around. "I'll believe in you. Cheap kid. Making me believe in myself by forcing me to believe in you."

Tetsuya squealed as Aomine tossed him high up into the air.

In the midst of playing with Tetsuya, he forgot about those blue eyes of his. It was the first time since middle school that he'd felt such unbounded joy. It was a foreign feeling, but a good one.

His phone began to ring, and Tetsuya hit the ground running to the bathtub when Aomine put him down to answer. A sort of chill climbed up around his heart like ivy chains on a wall as he read the text.

"Oh? Daiki-chan, what are you doing?"

"I—" Aomine hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself. He swayed on his feet, stranded between the door and his place to stay. He could feel Toru's eyes on him, and for Christ's sake, he didn't know why or how, but he somehow _knew_ the man was smiling.

It took all the strength in him to keep his chest from constricting and suffocating him from the inside. Abruptly, he became aware of the red blanket still tied around his shoulders. He could have laughed, or vomited; he didn't know which he wanted to do more. But he clutched the fabric at his throat and looked at Toru with the most contorted smile—_don't cry—_on his face and said:

"I'm gonna be a goddamn superhero."

**-6-**

**Saturday**

**12:00 a.m.: the bird smiled**

When Kise went to open the door, he didn't know what he was expecting, but he certainly wasn't expecting to be greeted by a man who seemed to not know whether he should smile or scowl at the sight of him.

Kise made to shut the door in the tanned youth's face, but a foot darted out and jammed itself against the door.

Aomine Daiki.

"How did you…"

He saw pink hair framing a face peering out from behind Aomine, and his question fell flat on his tongue.

"Momoi," he said flatly. She smiled at him, half apologetic, half challenging.

"It was a job request," she said coyly. "And I can't say that I wasn't curious to see how you and everyone else were doing. It's been a long time since I've been in touch with anybody. It's good to see you again, Kise-kun."

He couldn't say the same.

Not when he couldn't even meet their eyes.

Momoi hummed a little, like she was mulling something over in her mind. She took two quick glances between Aomine and Kise.

"I think this isn't quite the place for me yet," she said softly. "I'll leave you two alone."

"Thanks," Aomine grunted as she left, and he couldn't quite tell whether he wanted her back. At least that way, he wouldn't be alone with some grown-ass man who couldn't meet his eyes. But as he watched Kise, he knew instinctively that it was going to take a lot to get words through that stubborn blonde's head, and that more people would only exacerbate the situation.

Aomine knew he couldn't save Kise on his own. It was a strange sensation to admit that to himself when for the latter part of his life, he had believed just the opposite. But it was more than a gut feeling or instinct that told him he wasn't capable of saving Kise; he wasn't the type—_not like Kuroko—_who knew how to save someone without even thinking.

Aomine took two steps into the room and shut the door, and in a split second, Aomine passed from his world into Kise's…

It was a depressing world where you could only walk backwards, moving reluctantly into the future realm while keeping your eyes on the past. It was so easy to maintain equilibrium, to fall into pace with this world; its simplicity and false serenity belied the darkness that seeped into the blood like a parasite. It was so easy to walk on the ice of this world that couldn't be melted no matter how many springs passed by.

This was Kise's world, and for all Aomine knew, it could also be his own.

Toru's odd dances and Tetsuya's bright laugh burst into his mind like sunlight from behind black clouds; no, Kise's world was not his own; his own might have been like that once, but it had tasted the sun. Aomine looked at Kise, and for all his golden hair and eyes, his world had not a single speck of light.

Aomine reached out his hand. He couldn't save Kise on his own. But as he looked into those lackluster eyes, he swore to bring Kise to that place because if there was one thing that could take the sun into Kise's barren world, it was there—the house of the sun.

"Yo, Kise," he said with a strained grin. "It's been a while."

Tetsuya called him a superhero, but he was no superhero.

At least, not without his sidekick.

His support.

_His shadow._

* * *

><p><em>I want to make these chapters shorter so that I can cheat and put in less work for a chapter a week, but then if I do, there's pretty much no plot development, and it will feel very short and unsatisfying…<em>

_Sorry again to the disappointment caused by my plans to not have Tetsuya inherit Kuroko's memories; I personally would feel very strange writing Kuroko through Tetsuya, who is a good fifteen-sixteen years younger than Kuroko. To each their own. I actually have a lot of reasons why I wouldn't want Tetsuya to 'become' Kuroko, just don't know quite how to verbalize them. _

_Anyways, thanks, as always, for reading (and sorry for failing to reply to reviews TAT)! _


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